


Does He Make You Feel As Good As I Do?

by potatogestapo



Series: GiP! Lexa + Clarke oneshots and drabbles [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: All their friends know about them fucking, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, But I promise it'll turn out good, Cheating, Clarke doesn't know what's coming her way, Clarke is confused, Clexa is Endgame, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Girl Penis Lexa, Happy Ending, I made Lexa cry I'm so sorry, I swear I'll make it up to you, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Lexa is confused, Lexa's Dick, Mutual Pining, Neither does Lexa, Oral Sex, Sensual Massage Oil, Shameless Smut, Smut, So the angst just got worse, Vaginal Fingering, Why do I keep posting things I write when it's late and I'm drunk, fuck buddies, handjobs, obviously, possible multichapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatogestapo/pseuds/potatogestapo
Summary: The fact that Finn – her boyfriend – doesn’t cross her mind even once whenever her thoughts decide to wander towards the enigma that is Lexa Woods, should scare the shit out of her. She should be feeling guilty, but instead she’s too wrapped up in the brunette athlete with the forest green eyes; attempting to decrypt every quirk of those plump limps, every word uttered from them, every crinkle of that regal nose, every flutter of those eyelashes or touch from those sinfully long fingers – until she can find… What? What is she even looking for?orClarke and Lexa have an arrangement. You know, the typical 'We're both attracted to each other, so why not screw each other's brains out?' type arrangement. And that is all fine and dandy, until they catch feelings for each other. They both know they should stop what they're doing; that what they have will only end up in pain and disappointment. But addiction works in strange ways, and neither girl seems to be able to resist the pull the other girl has.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Update: I am currently working on chapter two. Did you really think I would let the story end like this? ;)
> 
>  
> 
> So yeah, I got drunk again and wrote this... Thing?  
> Apparently that's the only way I can ever post stuff, so I hope you keep in mind that my grammar might not be at its best.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy being forcefully dragged into the smut fest that is my mind ;)  
> Leave a comment if you like; feedback is the sustenance to my desperate need to keep Clexa real and ongoing. I can't believe it's been over two years since I got dragged into this ship, and I'm still desperate about them.  
> Lexa is my precious smol gay bean, and Clarke is my fierce, messed up cinnamon bun. PROTECT THEM AT ALL COST.
> 
>  
> 
> FAIR WARNING: LEXA HAS A DICK
> 
>  
> 
> \-- EDIT --  
> A couple of notes:
> 
> I have every intention of continuing with this story, and therefore I wanted to give you a heads up of what's (probably) about to come:
> 
> \- There will be no descriptions of sexual relationships other than Clexa (I'm not a Flarke fan AT ALL, and Clexa always have been and always will be my OTP. Read tags: Clexa is endgame)  
> \- There might, however, be a Flarke date somewhere in the near future, but we all know where that will end  
> \- Probably a helluva lot more angst, but also lots of fluff and smut. They're going to have to solve this like the mature teenagers that they are, so no skipping steps (sadly)  
> \- Some of you wanted Lexa to date other people/that Jealous Clarke™ make an appearance. I haven't decided yet on this, but we'll just have to wait and see.
> 
> And finally: I have a great deal of stuff coming up over the next few weeks, so this work is currently on a (very) short hiatus. My sister is getting married this weekend, and then I'm off to France a week after that, so I probably won't be able to do much writing until then. I'll see what I can do! Until then, thank you all so much for your wonderful comments - they make me so happy to read. I hope you have a wonderful time until we meet again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on tumblr https://aigoufa.tumblr.com/

”Fuck, _yes_ , right there. Don’t stop.” 

Clarke drives her hips backwards with more force, drinking in the sound of sweaty skin slapping together and the ‘ _shlick shlick_ ’ of her cunt slurping on the cock pounding into her. Tiny beads of sweat run down the length of her spine in rivulets, gathering at the small of her back, and her breath leaves her in gurgles and sharp gasps with every stroke of the length inside her. Her fingernails are chipped and raw where they claw at the battered wooden door of the stall, and there’s a flake of turquoise paint stuck underneath one of them, slowly digging further into her skin with each thrust, but Clarke can’t be bothered to care _at all_. Heat is coiling deep in her stomach, searing across her skin in flashes of fire, and she hasn’t had an orgasm in _four fucking days_. She’ll be damned if she doesn’t get to come now, let alone because of something as petty as a little pain. Besides, she’s way past her usual pride and self care by this point – she’s fucking in the bathroom of her _high school_ , for Christ’s sake. Might as well make an effort to pull through – and God, does she ever need it.

When your fuck buddy – the one you’ve ended up getting off with almost every single day, sometimes even multiple times a day - for the past _three months_ (the only one Clarke’s been getting off with for the last two months, but Clarke doesn’t like to think about that) goes away for a football game for a long weekend, you’re bound to end up with withdrawal. Especially when you and said fuck buddy end up sexting the whole time. Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever been this consistently wet and needy before. _Four longest days of her fucking life_.

 

“You need to be quiet, Clarke.” 

The husky voice is right by her ear, and she shudders as warm breath tickles the hair on her neck.

“Like fuck I do, there’s no one here. They’re all in class, remember?” she huffs, throwing a sly smirk over her shoulder, and her smugness is rewarded with a growl and another sharp, deep thrust. Her groan is filthy and loud as it filters through her grin, and she bites her lip and moans when she feels her walls begin their telltale fluttering around the thick length pounding into her.

Slender fingers release their hold from where they have scrunched the material of her skirt up to her waist, and Clarke shivers when they tug her blouse up from inside the waistband and dip underneath to scratch up the skin on her stomach. She hisses and keens when they shove her bra aside and seek out her nipples, pinching and rolling the stiff buds with practiced ease.

“Yes, fuck-” it’s like she’s been drinking gravel with the way her voice cracks and splinters, and she just _knows_ the effect it has on her companion when the pace of the thrusting is upped yet again and a shuttering groan is released into the back of her neck. She’s only a few seconds away from coming, and she can tell from the twitching and throbbing shaft inside her that she’s not the only one.

The hand that isn’t occupied with her nipples scratches down the swell of her ass, leaving red welts in its trail, and the sting is delicious enough that Clarke whimpers and seeps around the cock that’s sliding in and out of her at almost breakneck speed. A couple more thrusts and she’ll be coming. _She just needs_ something _more_ …

The hand disappears from her ass for a single second before cracking down on the sore skin with a swift smack, and Clarke throws her head back so hard she almost gets whiplash. It’s not painful; it’s more a show of dominance than anything else, and the pleasurable sting is _exactly_ what Clarke needs to be thrown over the edge.

“Fuck, oh _fuck_!” 

Her moans can only be compared to those of a porn star as she clenches around the cock still slamming into her, slick dripping down her thighs. A second later there are teeth biting into the clammy skin of her neck, and Clarke feels her eyes roll to the back of her head as she pulses forcefully, her hips driving back hard. A low grunt and a few more sharp thrusts, and then there’s hot cum spilling deep into her. 

Soft lips rest against her shoulder for a moment as hips twitch and roll languidly against hers, drawing out the pulsing inside her, and Clarke slumps against the door, panting harshly. She’s vaguely aware of how her blouse clings to her sweaty back, but all she can really focus on is the slow drip of cum down the insides of her thighs as the softening cock slips out of her.

She takes a moment to slow her breathing, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly as she listens to the sound of a zipper being pulled up. A second later she feels warm hands slide her underwear up her legs and into place, and she blushes because _wow_ , that somehow feels _way_ more intimate than the actual fucking. Then her skirt is tugged back down, and she has to force the heat from her cheeks before turning around.

“Thanks. You have no idea how much I needed that.” Her trademark smirk is in place, and it helps her _some_ with powering through the fluttering in her stomach as her eyes meet forest green.

Lexa’s chuckle is low and all kinds of suggestive, and her smirk positively _panty dropping_ (obviously; that literally just happened), and _God, Clarke, get a grip_.

“No worries, I got something out of it too.” 

Lexa licks her lips, and her eyebrow quirks pointedly as her eyes flicker down to where Clarke’s breasts are still spilling out over the top of her bra. The brunette’s voice rumbles thick between them, and Clarke usually doesn’t particularly like her girls masculine, but _fuck, if Lexa isn’t the sexiest girl she’s ever met. And she’s really pretty too, and funny, and smart, and – nope, Clarke, you’re not going there_.

Clarke forces herself to play along with the light banter they usually fall into when they’re not fucking – _when you’re just friends, you’re friends, god damnit_ -, and she laughs and slaps Lexa lightly on the shoulder as she hurries to straighten her bra and blouse back into place. 

The small half smile Lexa rewards her in return is enough for the flutters in her stomach to return full force though, because coming from a usually as stoic a girl as Lexa, that might as well have been a full blown grin, and _fuck, she’s so cute_. The blonde feels her cheeks warm up again, and before she can embarrass herself completely by doing something utterly foolish like brushing one of those gorgeous locks of hair behind her pretty little ear and kiss her soft li– _you’re fuck buddies, Clarke, she’s not into you like that, damn it_ – she does what she always does best; acts wildly inappropriate to cover up her own tells.

“Yeah, I definitely noticed that,” she says, bending down slightly to trail a finger up the inside of her thigh and gathering some of their mixed juices. When she’s sure Lexa has her full attention on her ( _when does she not, though? God, she’s so fucking perfect_ ) she brings the finger up to her lips and slowly sucks it clean, moaning breathily and releasing it with a wet smack. Lexa’s pupils dilate instantly, and Clarke smirks when her gaze trails down to the bulge that’s now swelling against the front of Lexa’s pants yet again. Before the brunette can react any further Clarke is already out of the booth and halfway to the door. She throws a quick glance in the mirror to find her hair mussed into what can only be described as _obscene_ sex hair, but she only smirks and winks at the brunette scowling at her through the mirror, before turning and sauntering the rest of the way to the door.

“So I’ll see you tonight? 

If Clarke weren’t so keenly attuned to everything _Lexa_ she would have probably missed the minuscule quirk of her brow at the question, but she smiles knowingly and sing-songs “Movie night at Raven’s, remember? Lincoln and O are bringing the beer!” She puts on her best innocent smile, only barely able to suppress her laughter when Lexa grumbles and nods her head, and then she’s swinging the door open and disappearing into the hallway.

***

The fact that Finn – her _boyfriend_ – doesn’t cross her mind even _once_ whenever her thoughts decide to wander towards the enigma that is Lexa Woods, should scare the shit out of her. She should be feeling _guilty_ ; let the familiar thick lump form in her throat and burrow its way down into her chest and settle there, dark and weighted with her actions – the same lump that has been firmly rooted between her lungs ever since she watched her father heave his last breath amongst the rank smell of gasoline and smoke in the mangled metal corpse of their crimson Chevrolet pick-up truck. That same lump that over time has shrunk and deflated until it’s no longer making her ribcage crack with every forced breath, but only lingers there to constantly remind her of her grief. 

She should be feeling guilty, but instead she’s too wrapped up in the brunette athlete with the forest green eyes; attempting to decrypt every quirk of those plump limps, every word uttered from them, every crinkle of that regal nose, every flutter of those eyelashes or touch from those _sinfully_ long fingers – until she can find… _What? What is she even looking for_?

The fact that she hasn’t really spoken to or seen Finn outside of lunch period and Chemistry since that night three months ago – _since she kissed Lexa_ -, should scare her even more. There’s been a shift in her demeanor ever since, and Clarke knows that Finn has sensed it; his texts are more careful now, his touches more unsure. Clarke doesn’t know if she’s grateful for it or not.

They still act like a couple when in public; holding hands and sharing laughs and kisses, but the spark she once felt whenever she looked at her boyfriend is long dead and turned to ash. Now every forced smile feels heavy and straining, his hands unwanted where they once felt at home, his chapped lips annoyingly lacking of the soft plumpness that Clarke _aches_ for.

 

***

 

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Lexa hisses, forest green frantically scanning the dark room.

“Relax, Lexa.” Clarke whispers, trailing her lips along the sensitive skin on the brunette’s neck. The action elicits a full-body shiver from the girl, and Clarke has to hide her smirk by nipping at the sharp jawline beneath her lips. Her hand is cupping Lexa’s dick firmly through her tight black jeans, and Clarke turns all sorts of smug when she squeezes and feels it swelling beneath her fingers.

“Are you crazy? What if someone catches us?” Lexa’s stare is scolding in the darkness of Raven’s living room, and Clarke rolls her eyes and snorts ( _quite unattractively_ , she scolds herself), but Lexa doesn’t seem to notice as she grips Clarke’s hand firmly.

“Lexa, chill. Raven’s asleep like a rock, and Lincoln and Octavia aren’t even here.” She husks, licking teasingly beneath Lexa’s ear, and the rapidly hardening bulge beneath her hand twitches ever so slightly.

“They just went to the bathroom, they’ll be back any second!” Lexa glowers, but her breath hitches ever so slightly, and Clarke has to stifle her laugh into the brunette’s shoulder. When Lexa only glowers harder, the blonde quirks her eyebrow at her and smirks.

“You really think they’ll be back? Oh Lex, you’re so innocent.” Lexa stares at her confused, and Clarke melts a little.

“Oh come on, Lexa, they’re obviously fucking. They won’t be back here anytime soon, if at all.” 

She squeezes her hand pointedly at the word fucking, and dips down to nose at the exposed collarbone over Lexa’s t-shirt. It’s barely been seven hours since their stint in the bathroom at school, but she’s already craving more – and she really wants to try something they haven’t gotten to do yet. She leans back to look at Lexa, raising a finger to the girl’s chin to turn her face towards her, and leans in close enough that their lips brush together. Lexa’s breath is warm and ragged against her and tastes like peppermint and beer, and Clarke feels all sorts of dizzy. She licks her lips slowly, delighted when her tongue accidentally touches Lexa’s lower lip and the brunette closes her eyes in a shiver.

“Besides, I want to taste you.” 

Her voice is barely above a whisper, but Clarke is more than aware of what it does to the girl beside her, and she grins when Lexa’s throat bobs as she swallows thickly. Clarke scrapes her fingers slowly over the growing bulge between the brunette’s legs, moving up to the button of her jeans, and Lexa keeps it together for all of two seconds, casting a last worried glance at Raven’s sleeping form, before she huffs and releases her loose hold on Clarke’s hand.

“Fine, but don’t think I won’t remember this.”

The statement is stern, almost threatening, and Clarke shivers in the best way when images of Lexa fucking her rough and deep to punish her filter into her mind.

Her fingers work swiftly with the button and zipper of Lexa’s pants, and she tilts her head up to swallow the brunette’s groan with her own mouth when she dips beneath the waistband and fishes out the thick cock. She smirks proudly when she finds the length already fully hardened, and she strokes it a couple of time to coax out the beads of precum threatening to spill from the tip. 

Lexa sighs against her lips, sliding a hand up to fist it loosely into blonde locks, and a second later her tongue is asking for entrance to Clarke’s mouth. Clarke accepts it eagerly, moaning softly when the brunette tugs her closer and their warm tongues glide against each other. The scent from Lexa’s breath is even more potent on her tongue, and Clarke delves in greedily in search for more.

Lexa doesn’t really kiss her too often, and Clarke’s not exactly sure why, but she doesn’t feel the need to question it. She thinks it probably has something to do with the fact that they’re pretty much always busy with their mouths elsewhere, or just in general need of oxygen from their vigorous fucking.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t savor every second of Lexa’s lips on hers, though. The football player’s tongue is, in Clarke’s opinion, a work of art, and it’s a rare occasion when she can contain her whimpers as it tangles with her own.

She briefly entertains the realization that of all the people she has made out with, Lexa definitely tastes the best, but she shoves the thought to the back of her head immediately. _None of that now, Clarke, get your head straight_. 

Clarke breaks the kiss after a couple of delicious moments of Lexa’s tongue against hers, quickly disguising her fond smile with a smirk when Lexa pouts petulantly and tries to chase her lips. She feels her ragged breath on her skin, feels the flutter of Lexa’s long eyelashes on her cheeks, and the sensation is somehow infinitely more intense than any filthy public make-out session she has had with several of her classmates – and with her boyfriend during the past year - in her entire high school career as ‘Party Girl Griffin’. (The fact that said career experienced a rather abrupt halt in activity the second Lexa touched her for the first time goes _wildly_ ignored by Clarke’s inner stubbornness). Her stomach swoops and she itches to feel the tickle of those lashes against her neck and stomach and thighs and _everywhere_ , so she can memorize it and somehow convey it through her art. She even goes as far as to consider asking Raven to invent some sort of device to simulate it, but that just seems too fucking dumb. 

She mentally scolds herself, harder than she thinks she ever has, for getting distracted, before letting her gaze travel to the proud cock in her hand. It’s thick and flushed, resting against Lexa’s stomach, and Clarke licks her lips subconsciously. It’s big, _a lot_ bigger than one would suspect from Lexa’s lithe frame – she has the kind of athletic build that doesn’t show with her clothes on, but when she’s naked, _god, when’s naked she’s all tightly packed abs and bulging biceps and shapely thighs, and her ass, fuck_ – Clarke swallows thickly, clenching her thighs as she feels herself seep into her underwear.

She chances a glance at Lexa from the corner of her eye, and she almost whimpers. Lexa’s pupils are blown where they watch her intently; Clarke has no difficulty in observing that fact, even with the gleam from the TV screen and the lamp in the hallway behind her as the only sources of light. Lexa’s hair is thick and curly where it splays over her shoulders against the back of the couch, and her lips are red and swollen from kissing. She’s panting slightly, the hand that’s not tangled in Clarke’s hair gripping the cushions in a vice like grip, and when Clarke pumps her from base to tip Lexa shudders and bites her lip. Clarke smirks and leans up to kiss her just as she squeezes the cock and flicks her thumb over the leaking slit on the head, and Lexa’s groan might be the filthiest one she’s heard yet.  
It’s all Clarke needs to slide down from beside Lexa and sink to her knees in front of her. 

“Fuck” Lexa pants, mindful to keep her voice down for the other occupant in the room, and she pouts when Clarke lets go of her cock. Clarke almost forgot Raven was even there at all, mind occupied with the possibility of having Lexa cum in her mouth, and she casts a quick glance over her shoulder. 

Just as she thought: Raven is splayed across the other couch in what seems to be an almost comatose state, snoring and drooling with her head tipped back against the armrest, and Clarke knows there’s next to no chance of waking her up for at least another six hours. 

When she turns back to look up at Lexa she has to bite her lip to hold back her moan. The brunette’s legs are spread wide, her cock dripping and twitching in her hand as she strokes herself slowly, and she’s staring at Clarke like she’s wants to devour her. Her walls flutter when Lexa moves a hand to her cheek, stroking her flushed skin with her thumb slowly.

“Pretty girl” she murmurs, tracing Clarke’s face with hungry eyes, and Clarke knows _exactly_ where this is going. _Fuck_. She puts on her best innocent look, lips forming into a shy smile and eyes widening for good measure, and glances up at Lexa through her eyelashes.

“Do you want something, Clarke?” Lexa asks, tracing over her lower lip with her thumb. Clarke hears her barely contain a groan when she flicks her tongue out to swipe it teasingly against the digit, and she uses all the strength she has in her not to smirk at the brunette.

She sits up straighter, leaning back on her heels and folding her hands in her lap, before letting her eyes fall to Lexa’s thick length.

“Please Lexa, I want to suck you. Can I suck you?” She pouts up at her, fluttering her eyelashes, and Lexa tightens her grip around her dick ever so slightly. She’s still stroking herself torturously slow, and Clarke is practically squirming at this point, aching to see and taste the hot cum she’s come to crave like a drug, but never had the honor of tasting. _God, when did she let it get this far_?

Lexa clicks her tongue at her, shaking her head slightly and looking at her disapprovingly.

“I don’t know… You haven’t behaved particularly well, now, have you Clarke?”

Her voice is thick with dominance, even when just a decibel above a whisper, and Clarke shivers as another gush of wetness seeps into her underwear. Lexa’s smug smirk is only partially infuriating, because _fuck, Clarke_ loves _it when she’s like this_ , and the blonde knows what she has to do to get her will. 

She leans in just a tad bit closer, close enough that she knows Lexa will feel her breath on her cock, and her voice is sultry and sweet when she speaks.

“Please, _baby_ , I promise I won’t do it again.” The term of endearment might have seemed strange to use if it were anyone other than Lexa she was in this type of arrangement with, but she knows the brunette loves it. Fair enough, she has never admitted to it out loud, but the first time Clarke had let it slip Lexa came in a matter of seconds, and any other instance she has used it has proven to have more or less the same result. The way another round of precum slowly trickles down her cock only serves to prove Clarke’s point.

Lexa stares at her for a couple of seconds, seemingly contemplating whether she should give Clarke what she wants or punish her for her bad behavior, but Clarke catches Lexa’s gaze and licks her lips slowly, teasingly. She sees the exact moment Lexa’s façade crumbles. The slow bucking movements of the brunette’s hips stutter, and then Lexa growls and surges forward to crash their lips together. Clarke moans rather loudly, only just registering the sound of shuffling on the other couch, and she freezes mid-kiss, tongue stuck between Lexa’s sucking lips. Her blood runs cold for a second, but Lexa doesn’t seem to notice at all as she rakes her nails gently along the skin on Clarke’s neck and changes the angle to deepen the kiss. _Fuck it_. 

She scoots closer, pressing herself in between Lexa’s legs and harder against her lips, while smoothing her hands up the brunette’s thighs. Lexa shudders and shuffles further down on the cushion, lifting her ass to scoot to the far edge of her seat. When Clarke finally manages to tear herself away from Lexa’s lips long enough to realize the position the movement puts them in, the throatiness of her moan surprises even her. _Oh_.

Lexa’s dick is pressed tight against her cleavage, her blouse low-cut enough that half of the length is touching skin, and it _sizzles_ with heat. Clarke never thought she’d actually be turned on by something like this, but she feels herself _gush_ when Lexa’s breathing turns unsteady and Clarke feels the cock throb against her flushed skin.

But while the up until now unthought-of of idea of letting Lexa fuck her tits actually seems sexy as hell, Clarke still has a goal for the night. And that is to show Lexa just how good she is with her mouth. So she files her newfound dirty thoughts away for a time in the near future, and reaches up to grasp Lexa’s chin with her index finger and thumb. 

When Lexa tears her gaze away from her cleavage to look at her, her eyes are glazed over with a kind of aching, aroused vulnerability, and suddenly the power dynamics have switched. Clarke can’t help but to smirk and wink at her, and Lexa’s blush is so rich with color that Clarke almost melts.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll have plenty of time to have fun with the girls later.”

Lexa’s blush only deepens, and Clarke almost feels bad for her. But then Lexa’s hand shoots out to grasp the back of her head and she’s pulled forward in one swift motion.

Lexa sinks into the cushions the second Clarke’s mouth sinks down around her cock, and Clarke can’t help the whimper that escapes her as she _finally_ tastes her. She’s salty with a hint of something sweet; thick and heady, but clean, and Clarke’s hands find purchase on strong thighs the second the head slides all the way into her mouth. Lexa’s nails scratch against her scalp desperately, and she tugs and pulls as if she’s unsure if the stimulation is too much or not enough. _Holy shit_ , Clarke never thought it would feel this good.

Clarke laves her tongue experimentally against the swollen tip, dipping slightly into the divot to catch the beads of precum there, and she sighs breathily as Lexa’s taste spreads in her mouth. When she swirls her tongue along the underside of the head Lexa’s hips jerk up forcefully, and she throws her head back in a throaty moan.

“Oh, _fuck_ yes, Clarke, keep doing that”

Clarke’s whole body is vibrating with the sounds Lexa is making, and she clenches her thighs tight together in desperation as she leans down to take more of the throbbing length into her mouth. When the tip hits the back of her throat she whines, feeling a fresh trickle of precum spilling onto her tongue as she pulls back, and when she looks up to meet Lexa’s burning gaze she feels closer to coming than she’s ever done while untouched. Lexa looks feral; pupils blown and jaw clenched tight as she works to push air in and out of her lungs in time with the bucking of her hips. She’s almost regal in the way she looks down on Clarke, cheekbones sharp and puffy lips drawn in a tight line. But she also looks the complete opposite; vulnerable and submissive, almost pitiful ( _who is she kidding, Lexa could never look pitiful_ ) as she thrashes under Clarke’s lips and tongue. Clarke finds the contrasting display intoxicating.

She works her up slowly, licking and sucking gently along the underside of the shaft and around the flushed tip. Lexa responds in tiny groans and murmured encouragement, jogging her hips up whenever something feels particularly good, and soon she’s steadily bucking into Clarke’s mouth, breathing shallow and fingers clawing against the blonde’s scalp.

Clarke flexes her fingers against Lexa’s thighs as she sucks hard, and Lexa’s free hand flies out to tangle with hers faster than Clarke can blink. Slender fingers squeeze hers hard as Clarke’s other hand comes up to wrap around her twitching dick, and Clarke has never felt the need to make someone cum more than she does right this second. Lexa’s hand is warm and firm in hers, their fingers somehow fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces, and Clarke absently strokes a tender thumb over her knuckles as she begins stroking her cock fast and firm.

“Oh _shit_ , Clarke, I think…” Clarke sinks down while she pumps her hand upwards, her lips meeting her fingers in the middle of the length that’s now slick with precum and her spit, and her eyes flit up to watch Lexa as the brunette teeters on the edge.

Lexa’s looking down at her with something akin to awe, her cheeks flushed and her swollen lips parted as she pants harshly, and when Clarke pulls back to lick at the throbbing head obscenely, the brunette cries out and throws her head back like the snap of a twig. Clarke can’t even be bothered to care if Raven wakes up; she’s positively drenched and _aching_ to finally have Lexa cum in her mouth.

“Lexa,” she pants, pulling back only an inch to catch Lexa’s attention, all the while pumping her hand more firmly. The other girl just keeps her head thrown back and her eyes scrunched shut, looking like she’s concentrating on solving an impossible equation. Clarke’s eyes zero in on the little crinkle between Lexa’s eyebrows, and _fuck, why does she have to be so pretty_?

“ _Baby_ , look at me.”

Lexa’s eyes snap back to Clarke like a lightning bolt, and Clarke can feel the force of her hungry stare all the way down to her toes. It tingles and sizzles like champagne under her skin, swooping through every limb, before settling in her clit. Her hips buck of their own accord, desperately seeking to relieve some of the pressure, but Clarke knows right now isn’t about her.

The brunette’s hips pump into her hand roughly as Clarke strokes her faster, licking her lips and gripping Lexa’s hip forcefully with her free hand. The blonde waits a few seconds to make sure Lexa’s full focus is on her before smirking up at her. 

Some part of Clarke wonders when exactly she became this filthy in bed - or in this case ‘on couch’. She’s slept with her fair share of people, and she’s considered her ministrations ‘dirty’ on more than a couple of those occasions, but compared to her encounters with Lexa, they seem vanilla at best. She tries to think back to an occasion where Lexa and her might have verbally agreed to act this… primal around each other, but an inkling tells her it’s not a result of mature communication; but rather a result of mutual attraction and desire. Some people are just so into each other that they need to fuck each other’s brains out, filthy words and acts and all. _Well okay, not into… Attracted to_. Lexa’s not into her; not like Clarke’s into her. But she won’t think about that now, not when she has Lexa at her complete mercy, groaning and thrashing and seconds away from coming.

She shakes the thoughts of uncertainty from her head and refocuses her eyes on Lexa’s green ones - she can practically see the forest in them blazing like a wildfire. Lexa sucks in a sharp gasp just as Clarke sticks her tongue out and rests the slick head of her cock against it, and the brunette’s reaction is instant. 

Her eyes roll to the back of her head and she _keens_ , knuckles turning white as her grip on the cushions tightens, and then thick ropes of hot cum are spilling into Clarke’s mouth, onto her lips and dribbling down her chin. She drinks it in greedily, throat bobbing with every delicious swallow of the salty sweetness, and she’s pretty sure a single swipe of her fingers against her clit would be enough to send her crashing over the edge alongside Lexa.

Clarke keeps pumping the twitching length for a little longer, eager to draw out Lexa’s orgasm, and her greedy moans reward her with another weak spurt of cum. When it finally tapers down and Lexa relaxes against the couch again the blonde licks her clean, alternating between sweet kitten licks and broad swipes of her tongue, and Lexa twitches weakly and groans.

“Fuck, Clarke, that was…” 

Clarke smirks up at her and uses her thumb to swipe up the remaining drops of cum on her chin, licking them off as Lexa watches her intently, before shuffling up to kiss her. Lexa’s moan is breathy and sweet as she tastes herself on Clarke’s tongue, and she tangles both hands in blonde locks and pulls Clarke closer as she licks into her mouth.

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it” she chuckles against Lexa’s lips, and she can feel them tilt up into an amused smirk as Lexa tugs her onto her lap, helping her swing her leg over strong thighs to straddle them. She can’t contain her moan when warm, sure hands venture under her skirt to squeeze her ass, and her hips begin rolling of their own accord.

Clarke used to be a jeans type of girl. She never really wore skirts or dresses, too self-conscious about her own body. All the girls in her high school that others find worthy of checking out are tan and petite, with long toned legs and perky tits; and Clarke is neither of those. She’s all curvy hips and thick thighs covered in porcelain skin, and her breasts hang heavy and round on her chest. They’re more impractical than anything else; her back is almost always sore after a long day of school and work, and she has to buy her bras at a special lingerie store. Which admittedly means she has way nicer underwear than most girls in high school would, but it also comes with a higher cost – literally.

Her tits do have their perks, though. Like when she wears low-cut tops and both guys and girls alike let her skip in line to the cafeteria or offer her their seat when the bus is cramped - all of them ogling her and drooling quite blatantly. At first she found it all rather uncomfortable, opting to wear shirts with high collars and avoiding making her presence known whenever she could, but as high school progressed and she started dating Finn, her popularity peaked, and she was forced to get used to the attention. Now she kind of loves it. Especially when Lexa rips off her shirt like it’s an abomination that she would even consider wearing one, and the low growl the football player emits when her expensive lingerie hits the floor never fails to leave her panties drenched. If Lexa hasn’t ripped them off her already, that is.

Clarke quickly came to realize that her breasts are Lexa’s favorite part of her body, and she doesn’t mind that fact at all; her nipples are more than a little sensitive, and the undivided, hunger-laced attention Lexa pays them has had Clarke closer to coming than Finn probably ever has with his dick and mouth combined. The brunette plays with her nipples like she’s been starved of any and all entertainment her entire life, and it’s not often that Clarke is left without bruises and hickeys on at least half of her chest.  
The sweet ache of Lexa’s teeth marks around her nipples and on the underside of her breasts were enough to distract Clarke for quite some time from the fact that Lexa pays just as much attention to the soft skin of her thighs as she does her breasts. It was only when Lexa growled her appreciation of them as they were wrapped around her head one night, slender fingers gripping and stroking them eagerly, that Clarke fully realized she had nothing to be embarrassed about. The next day she had showed up to school in a short, flowing summer dress, and while practically everyone in a five-mile radius had lost their own weight’s worth of drool, Lexa’s hooded eyes and slack jaw was the only thing Clarke paid attention to.

Plus, jeans definitely aren’t practical attire when your time is limited and you can’t seem to get to the good part fast enough. Their first encounters of fucking in bathrooms, in utility closets - literally anywhere they could finally get their impatient hands on each other - Clarke would end up trapped and fumbling in the tight material of her pants, and she never could quite spread her legs wide enough for her own liking. They made her ass look amazing, that was for sure, but she couldn’t ignore the desperate need to wrap her legs around Lexa’s waist as she fucked her up against the wall of the locker room during Calculus. 

The skirts and dresses make it easier for both of them, and Clarke knows for a fact that Lexa loves it when her legs are bare and spread for her.

 

Clarke is brought out of her thoughts when Lexa tugs her closer by her ass, grinding her hot center against the cock that’s rapidly swelling where it still pokes out from the football player’s pants. That first, sweet friction against her aching clit has her gasping and jerking, one hand flying out to grasp Lexa’s wrist, anchoring herself, and the other coming up to tangle in the soft curls at the base of Lexa’s neck. She tugs hard, yanking Lexa’s head back against the couch, and hovers her lips over the other girl’s mouth, breathing ragged and sharp as she begins rolling her hips against her.

“Eager for more, are we?” She whispers, leaning in to tug at Lexa’s lower lip with her teeth. Lexa’s groan is deep and rumbling, and Clarke can feel it through the slender fingers that squeeze her ass harder.

“God, Clarke, I can feel you through your panties… You’re so wet.” 

A single finger slips into the tight space between them to trail along her labia where its outline is visible through the soaked fabric. Clarke’s so worked up she’s not even all that surprised when Lexa pulls the finger back and wetness strings from it. A full blown shiver runs through both of them when the string snaps, and Clarke can barely maintain her scream when that same deft finger shoves her underwear aside and plunges into her. 

“Oh _shit_ …”

Lexa groans ever so softly against her lips and pulls back to sink a second finger into her. She curls them deep inside her and drags her fingertips along her swollen front wall, and Clarke has to smash their lips together to stifle her moans. Their tongues clash in a messy kiss, and Lexa swallows Clarke’s cries when the blonde starts riding her fingers. She manages to keep her noises to a minimum for a while, but a bite to her lower lip has Clarke whimpering, and Lexa squeezes her ass hard in warning.

“Shh, Clarke, you have to be quiet.”

Clarke doesn’t think she has it in her to be quiet; not when Lexa is stroking her walls like that. She’s reaching deeper than anyone has (well, except when Lexa uses her dick), and the sweet pressure Clarke can feel building as Lexa works her higher and higher is almost a little disconcerting. Lexa always has a way of knowing _exactly_ what to do to throw her over the edge fast and hard, but somehow this time it’s different. It might have something to do with the fact that they could get caught any second. Well, they almost always can, but like _really_ get caught. The thought of Raven waking up to see Lexa fucking her so thoroughly has her clenching and gasping. Their friends have no idea of their… Arrangement (to fuck each other senseless whenever they get the chance), and she’d like to keep it that way - at least until she can figure out what to do about her relationship with Finn. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t seeping around Lexa’s fingers just from the thought of getting caught. 

The squelching of her cunt combined with the hot press of Lexa’s tongue and lips against her throat are enough to have her constantly clenching around those sinful fingers. Lexa must sense that she’s close because she pulls Clarke’s hips up and holds her still so she’s hovering over Lexa’s lap, before she starts relentlessly pounding into her. Her thumb comes up to circle against her swollen clit, and the excessive amount of wetness between her legs makes the movement effortless, almost sloppy. Three more flicks and pumps of those fingers, and Clarke is shaking and pulsing as she comes. Lexa leans up to catch her lips with her own just a she gushes around her fingers, and the white-hot heat that surges through her doubles when their tongues glide against each other. 

It takes her several minutes before she’s able to catch her breath, and she barely manages to notice the wet stain she’s left on the couch between, and across Lexa’s legs. She’s a little distracted by Lexa’s warm lips against her own, her thumbs stroking idle circles on the skin where her lower back meets her ass. The soft touch is just outside of the usual parameters for what ‘friends with benefits’ do, and Clarke should really tell her to stop – set some boundaries. But in this moment she lives for Lexa’s soft touches because it means there _might just be something more there_. Because when she gazes into Lexa’s eyes she can see it.

“Want to get out of here?”

One look at the stiff and twitching length underneath her is enough for Clarke to nod her head furiously, and the girls scramble to their feet in a rush. Lexa barely manages to tuck herself into her pants before Clarke grabs her by the hand and drags her out the door towards the brunette’s car.

*** 

Lexa is a little lost when it comes to Clarke.

She doesn’t really know how to explain it differently. Clarke is just… Difficult to get.

She clings to Clarke’s hips with a tight grip as she slides all the way inside her. She’s reaching deeper than she usually does, and the silken heat and tight grip feels heavenly around her. She’s got her eyes fixed on the point where their hips meet, watching intently as her cock disappears before reappearing, glistening and swollen. She’s got her eyes fixed there because she can’t look at Clarke’s face, she can’t look at those piercing blue eyes and those soft, pink lips without… _Without what?_ She’s not sure. She just knows that watching Clarke’s face as she slowly comes apart around her, _because of her_ , will throw her over the edge way too fast, and she’s not about to embarrass herself like that.

Her cock is twitching and pounding to the rapid beating of her heart as she drives into her again and again, and by the way Clarke’s walls flutter around her she knows the blonde is close.

“Oh _fuck, baby_ , don’t stop…”

She’s not sure how she feels about the pet name. It feels almost too good to be true; that _Clarke Griffin_ is calling her _baby_. The girl she has been crushing on for more than a year is calling her _baby_ , and she’s unable to appreciate it fully. Because she knows that Clarke doesn’t mean it in the way that Lexa wants her to.

She knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but the blonde has a way of getting to her - a way of tearing right through the walls she’s so carefully built throughout her life to protect herself. Just a goddamn _pet name_ is enough to have Lexa mewling and crumbling under Clarke’s hands in the best way. It’s sweet torture – having a crush on a girl that’s taken, but still wants you – at least in some way.

“Shit, Clarke, I’m gonna come…”

The blonde’s moan is raspy and high pitched as she grips the back of the seat on either side of Lexa’s head. She rolls her hips faster, rising up until Lexa almost slips out of her, and then sinking back down hard. Every time Lexa bottoms out the girl above her answers with a filthy sound of pleasure and a roll of her hips. She’s soaking wet, fresh arousal seeping out between them with every few sharp thrusts, and the way Clarke’s cunt slurps at her cock has Lexa seeing stars. She’s so close she can almost taste her orgasm, but she needs something more. 

The deep blue of Clarke’s eyes are black when she meets them with her own, completely devoured by her pupils, and Lexa has to keep from biting through her lip at the sight. 

She goes against all the rules in her rulebook and surges up to kiss her, because kissing her is a lot better than getting lost in her eyes, and Lexa doesn’t have it in her to deny herself at least a part of Clarke. Looking into her eyes is too intimate, _too real_ , but the raw, primal fucking they’re doing now is not enough, and so she settles for kissing her. A sort of compromise with her own battling feelings, if you must.

Clarke’s tongue is soft and deliciously wet and tastes like vanilla lip gloss and Lexa’s own cum, and _oh fuck, she won’t be able to hold it in much longer_.

She makes a swift decision – one she always makes when it comes to Clarke – and decides to make sure the blonde comes before she does. What is she if not a gentlewoman? 

A swift tug of her hand and finally Clarke’s ample breasts are spilling out of her lace bra, and _did she wear that just because of me? Come on, Lexa, stop overthinking things_. 

She leaves a few messy, openmouthed kisses to her neck, trails down towards her collarbones and bites down around the protruding bone. Clarke shivers and whimpers when she pokes her tongue out to soothe the stinging bite, and then Lexa trails further down to suck a nipple into her mouth. It’s already swollen and puckered; rosy pink both soft and hard against her tongue, and Clarke keens when Lexa sucks it hard and scrapes her teeth against it.

“Oh my _fucking god_ , Lex, you’re gonna make me come”

She’s already hurdling towards the edge herself, and she jogs her hips up sharp and fast as she switches to the other nipple, making sure to lave her tongue across it just the way she knows Clarke likes. Clarke’s walls are fluttering wildly around her, and the pressure shooting up the length of her cock is becoming almost painful. She needs to cum, but she doesn’t want it to ever end – and she needs to make Clarke feel good. She’s already feeling better than she ever has with any other girl. 

Ok yeah, so she’s slept with her fair share of girls. But somehow none of them felt as good as Clarke. She’s tight and hot and wet and always seems to fit just right around Lexa’s cock. And it’s not just that; she always seems to know _exactly_ what Lexa needs. Whether it’s soft kisses along her neck and chest, or rough scratches and bites on her lips and abs – Clarke always manages to leave her in a puddle.  
It’s a miracle she’s even been able to keep up with the blonde for so long; just the thought of kissing her, touching her, feeling her around her, slick and willing, is enough to have Lexa on the brink. She supposes the only reason she hasn’t made a fool out of herself and cum like a teenage boy the second she slips inside Clarke is because of her fierce urge to please the blonde. Lord knows Clarke needs someone who actually knows what she wants. That Finn boy doesn’t even know how to properly kiss a girl – Lexa bets he only ever manages to make Clarke cum half the time they sleep together, maybe even less. _You’re not thinking about that human butt wipe now, Lexa._

She circles her arms around Clarke’s waist and pulls her tight against her as she ups the pace of her hips. The air in the car is thick with the smell of sex and sweat, and Lexa would probably find it stifling were she here with anyone else, but with Clarke it only works to turn her on more. Her cock is pounding at this point; Clarke’s walls are squeezing and pulling her deeper inside with every thrust, and she knows she won’t last much longer.

She releases Clarke’s nipple with a wet pop and fixes her with her sexiest smolder (at least that’s what Clarke had described it as right after Lexa made her squirt in the art studio after third period last Tuesday).

“You going to come for me, Clarke?”

The blonde shivers and rolls her hips forcefully, and Lexa gets the hint right away. She pulls one hand back from her hold on Clarke’s waist to scratch her nails down her toned stomach before reaching her clit. It’s swollen and red, eagerly peeking out of its hood, and Lexa wastes no time in taking it between her thumb and index finger. Rolling it a couple of times between her fingers, Lexa snaps her hips up and buries herself deep inside Clarke, before pinching the sensitive bud hard.

“Oh shit, _Lex – Ah_!”

Clarke clamps down around her and stills for several glorious seconds, and Lexa keeps pumping into her furiously, all the while pinching and rolling her clit roughly. The blonde is mewling on top of her, spine taut and thighs trembling, and Lexa feels like she’s watching a natural phenomenon happen right in front of her.

She’s pretty sure Clarke is about to pass out or have a seizure or something, and she’s almost a little worried, but then the blonde’s body falls into violent tremors and she screams as her orgasm washes over her. A gush of slick wetness trails down both their thighs, and Lexa feels her eyes roll to the back of her head as she _finally_ comes. Her balls tighten and thick pulses of pressure race up her length before exploding at the head, and then she’s spilling herself inside Clarke, groaning and jerking with every clutch of the girl’s cunt.

 

She’s still coming down from her high when Clarke leans down to kiss her. It’s sweet and short, almost a little hopeful, and it has Lexa’s heart clenching tightly in her chest. She reciprocates (of course she does, it’s _Clarke Griffin_ , for Christ’s sake), but as soon as their lips part she’s left feeling hollow and confused. _Who does that? Who kisses someone like that when they know it can never be more than what is?_ Clarke has a _boyfriend_ , and as much as Lexa wishes he never existed, Finn Collins is still the one that gets to call Clarke his own. Lexa is just someone who happens to love a girl that is already taken. _Wait, what?_

She doesn’t get to dwell on her inner monologue’s unfortunate choice of words because Clarke seems to sense her confusion as soon as their lips pull apart. She blushes fiercely and looks away, and Lexa thinks that crimson red has never looked better than on Clarke’s cheeks, but she doesn’t comment on it. She can sense that Clarke is about to say something from the way the blonde’s mouth opens and closes, but she’s unable to obtain eye contact with her. The moment feels charged with something; the air between them sizzling and thick with unspoken words, and when Clarke finally looks at her Lexa has to choke back a gasp. 

Her previously blackened eyes are sparkling in the dim light of the car, cerulean blue tinged with longing and regret. Lexa’s chest tightens with unspoken words, but she can’t seem to get them out. Before she manages to gather the courage, Clarke looks away, and Lexa doesn’t know if she should be relieved or disappointed that the moment is over.

“Want me to drive you home?”

Her voice cracks several times as she forces the words out, and she doesn’t miss the disappointment in Clarke’s eyes. The blonde shifts above her, slowly rising up to let the now softened cock slip out of her, and Lexa shivers involuntarily against the cold air that hits her.

“Yeah, that would be good.” Clarke murmurs, and before Lexa knows it she’s sitting in the driver’s seat, hands cringing the leather of the steering wheel as she tries desperately not to let her gaze wander to the blonde in the passenger seat beside her. 

The car stills reeks of sex, and she rolls the windows down to suck in gulps of air to clear her head.

Clarke doesn’t say anything the whole drive back to her place, but Lexa is more than attentive to her body language. She doesn’t move much, only shifting in her seat every couple of minutes, eyes fixed on the scenery hurdling past them in the dark of the night, and Lexa feels a lump form deep in her stomach that only grows the closer they get to Clarke’s place.

When she finally pulls up to Clarke’s driveway the blonde is hesitant to get out of the car, hands fidgeting in her lap as she seems to try to gather her thoughts. Several seconds go by in complete silence as Lexa stares down at her own lap, and just as she’s about to break the silence Clarke jerks the door open and stumbles out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride. So, I guess I’ll see you at school?”

She can’t bring herself to look at Clarke, her disappointment heavy and sour in her chest, and she only manages a nod before Clarke shuts the car door and hurries up the driveway.

The whole way home she desperately tries to ignore the fact that Clarke’s hand seemed to reach for her own several times during their drive. And that she would have gladly taken it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke invites Lexa over for the weekend. Lots of smut and lots of angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized long ago that my two go-to themes when I write is smut and angst, and boy do I have a surprise for you this time! Nah, I kid, this is just pure smut and angst.  
> I'm trying to decide on how to continue this story (I mean, obviously Clexa is endgame, but how to get there is a whole other question), so your inputs are greatly appreciated. Feel free to hit me up with some requests for the smutty parts too ;))))) I mean, I've still got heaps of ideas, but there's only so far one can go before you feel like you're repeating yourself. And I really do want to give you the best I can do. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than the first one, but I hope you enjoy it, even though I didn't fulfill any of your wishes regarding resolution haha
> 
> You guys are seriously the best, thanks for reading my stuff and giving me feedback!
> 
> Also, hit me up on tumblr: https://aigoufa.tumblr.com/

It’s been three weeks since Lexa dropped Clarke off at her house, and nothing’s really changed. 

Clarke still texts her to meet up with her almost every day, and Lexa still does every time. Most times it’s during class, other times - if they’re feeling extra frisky - they might do it during recess. The chances of getting caught are a lot bigger, but it definitely adds to the thrill. The orgasms are always a lot better, too, Lexa can’t deny that.

Either if it’s in the bathroom stalls or an abandoned classroom (sometimes they even do it in the darker corners of the hallways), Clarke always manages to get Lexa going. Lexa would think it utterly foolish to risk getting suspended like that _were it anyone else_ , but alas – it’s _Clarke_. And as much as she finds it reckless, she can’t deny how much it turns her on.

It’s been three weeks, and nothing’s really changed. Except _everything’s_ changed. 

They still fuck like they’re horny teenagers (which, of course, they are), but now their interactions are laced with something entirely too dangerous – feelings. Lexa couldn’t explain how she knows it if she tried, but when she looks at Clarke she knows this is no longer just about release. To Lexa it never really was.

When they don’t fuck they hang out, but never just the two of them. That’s kind of a given, really; they can barely keep their hands off each other even when their friends only leave the room for a couple of minutes. Lexa doesn’t think any of them have figured it out yet, but she knows some of them have their suspicions. Raven has been giving her more than a few suggestive looks whenever Clarke and her get a little too close. If she didn’t know better she’d think that Raven saw them on her couch that night, but the feisty mechanic is way too big mouthed to not have just thrown it in their faces at school the next day. 

Octavia has been acting strange lately, too. Whenever she thinks Lexa isn’t looking she’s giggling and nudging Clarke, whispering in her ear and looking over at Lexa like she’s in on some big secret. Clarke always scoffs and tells Octavia off subtly, but there’s a glint in those blue eyes that Lexa can’t ignore even if she tried. 

And come on, she never tries. Clarke could bat a single eyelash, and Lexa would be able to recount every glorious second of its movement. As much as that annoys her, and as much as she wishes she weren’t, she’s lost in this girl.

 

When Octavia’s teasing subsides Clarke’s attention always turns to Lexa, and Lexa can’t _not_ return it. She’s lost count of how many times they’ve ended up staring at each other from across the room, oblivious to the other people around them. Hope stirs in her stomach every time she sees the tenderness in those cerulean eyes. It flutters around her chest like a dozen birds fighting for their way out into fresh air. Clarke keeps looking at Lexa like she’s the key to happiness that’s just out of reach, but it only serves to leave a sour taste on her tongue because _Clarke’s not hers_.

Lexa’s always the first one to look away. She’s always the first one to look away because she can’t allow herself to think there will ever be more.

*** 

It’s Friday, and Lexa’s just getting out of her last class when she receives the text.

 

_**[Clarke: 3:02pm]:** _

_**Hey, u have plans for the weekend?** _

Her stomach flutters before she’s even finished reading the text, and that’s definitely a sure fire sign that she’s fucked. But when it comes to Clarke Lexa has never been the type to think with her head. 

 

_**[Lexa: 3:03pm]:** _

_**Not that I know of. Got anything in mind?** _

 

Clarke’s reply is instant, and Lexa has to swallow the excessive spit that gathers in her mouth when she reads it.

 

_**[Clarke: 3:03pm]:** _

_**I skipped last period and went shopping, bought something I think u might like. ;) Want to come over later?** _

The message is immediately followed by an attached image, and though it only shows a fraction of what Lexa can only imagine is a _very_ intricate piece of black lace underwear, she feels herself already growing hard. _Fuck, this girl will be the death of her._

It takes her several minutes to form a reply; the rapidly forming bulge in her pants forcing her to flee to her car without even stopping by her locker, and by the time she’s made it out to the parking lot there’s another text from Clarke.

 

_**[Clarke: 3:07pm]:** _

_**Lex? Did you have an aneurism or something?** _

She throws her bag in the backseat and hurls herself into the driver’s seat before shakily typing out the only thing she can think of that doesn’t make her sound like a sex crazed fool.

 

_**[Lexa: 3:08pm]:** _

_**Sorry, traffic in the hallway. What about your mom?** _

 

_**[Clarke: 3:09pm]:** _

_**Out of town until Monday. ;)** _

 

She swallows the lump in her throat and grinds her teeth together before typing out her reply, because she needs to know.

 

_**[Lexa: 3:10pm]:** _

_**And Finn?** _

 

Clarke doesn’t respond for several minutes, and the longer Lexa sits in silence the more she regrets asking because _does she really want to know?_

When her phone finally beeps she’s reluctant to check it, heart beating like crazy in her chest. She has to swallow the bile that rises in her throat at the thought of the possible answer that waits for her.

 

_**[Clarke: 3:15pm]:** _

_**Went to visit his cousin out of state. He won’t be back until Tuesday.** _

 

_**[Clarke: 3:15pm]:** _

_**Why?** _

 

She doesn’t know if that’s the answer she was hoping for. Honestly, it just leaves her more confused than before, but she doesn’t let herself think about it. She already knows she’ll end up going to Clarke‘s anyways; it’s become inevitable by now. She hasn’t been thinking rationally since Clarke kissed her four months ago.

She decides to ignore the last message.

 

_**[Lexa: 3:16pm]:** _

_**I was hoping to get a run in after school. Does six sound good to you? I can stop by that pizza place on my way.** _

 

_**[Clarke: 3:18pm]:** _

_**Yeah, sounds good. See ya then.** _

 

_**[Clarke: 3:18pm]:** _

_**Oh, and Lexa?** _

 

_**[Lexa: 3:19pm]:** _

_**Yes?** _

 

_**[Clarke: 3:19pm]:** _

_**Don’t shower before you get here ;)** _

 

She rolls her eyes at the last message, but she can’t help the smirk that fights its way onto her face. The implication that Clarke wants her sweaty and worked up is, to her surprise, more than a little hot, and yet again she feels herself stir in her pants. She’s aching to be done with her run before she’s even halfway home from school.

 

*** 

 

By the time she’s made it to Clarke’s place she’s dripping in sweat, a box of extra cheese pizza in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. She hadn’t really planned on bringing any alcohol, but she wasn’t left much of a choice when Anya had practically thrown the vodka bottle at her face the second she walked through the door to their apartment.

_“Anya what is this?”_

_“Oh Lex, I know you’re not all that versed in the drinking department, but you’d think you knew what vodka was by this point.”_

_Anya’s smirk is more than a little annoying, and Lexa rolls her eyes at her._

_“I know what vodka is, An. I just don’t know why you’re so intent on giving me a head injury with it._

_“Hey, it barely even grazed your forehead! Besides, aren’t you going to Clarke’s this weekend? I thought you might need the liquid courage, you know? Hanging out with cute girls when you’re sober has never quite been your forte.”_

_Her shit eating grin is even more annoying, and Lexa flips her the bird and scoffs to cover up her blush._

_“I am more than capable of hanging out with cute girls when I’m sober!”_

_Anya only gives her a knowing smirk, and Lexa’s flushed cheeks are accompanied by a harsh glower towards her older sister._

_“Besides, I’m probably not even staying over, so please don’t throw a party while I’m gone. I can’t take a second more of those hippie friends of yours leaving brownie crumbs all over my bed. I thought I told you specifically to lock the door to my room when you have people over!”_

_Her voice raises on the last part, turning almost shrill, and Lexa’s honestly not sure if it’s from actual frustration or because of the idea of seeing Clarke in only an hour._

_Anya doesn’t even award her a response to the last part, only quirking her brow knowingly at Lexa and rolling her eyes when the younger girl only stares her down._

_“Oh, like I’m going to believe that. You’ll probably be so distracted by her tits and ‘magic pussy’, you won’t even realize it when Sunday morning rolls around.”_

_Her sister responds with a grin and plops down on the couch in the living room, throwing her legs up on the coffee table and crossing her arms behind her head._

_Lexa flushes a bright pink at the words, mentally bashing herself for letting slip her infatuation with Clarke’s… well, everything (but her tits, holy Christ, and Clarke’s taste…), that one time Anya managed to get her drunk and talking._

_“I’d kick your ass if I hadn’t signed you up for those kickboxing lessons last Christmas. I swear, you’re literally the most annoying person in this family.” Lexa huffs as she ties her running shoes and heads for the door._

_“If there were more than the two of us in this family I might have found that hurtful, but there’s not, so you’ll have to do better than that!” Anya retorts. Lexa flips her yet another bird over her shoulder and slams the door behind her. Anya’s laughter can be heard all the way down to the main floor._

 

So here she is, vodka in hand and sweaty hair sticking to her forehead as she forces her legs to make the last steps up to Clarke’s front door. Her run had helped with the nerves of having a whole alone with Clarke – maybe even a weekend (but Lexa won’t get her hopes up) -but as soon as she turned onto Clarke’s street they came rushing back to her like a freight train.  
She’s pretty sure the sweat pooling at her back isn’t just from her run, and her stomach is doing all sorts of flips by the time she makes it to the front door.

It takes her about 17 seconds to lift her hand and ring the doorbell. It takes Clarke all of five seconds to open the door, and Lexa barely has three seconds to toy with the idea that Clarke was waiting for her impatiently before her mind goes completely blank.

The blonde is standing in nothing but a sky blue silk robe, soft blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and creamy thighs on display. Lexa can just make out the black lace of a bralette beneath the robe, and it takes her way longer than she’s willing to admit before she’s able to drag her eyes up to Clarke’s.

“So I’m guessing you like what you see?”

Clarke’s voice is low and gravelly, just the right amount of breathiness in it, and Lexa gulps audibly. She’s barely able to manage a nod.

Clarke chuckles and throws her a wink, and Lexa’s heart actually does a somersault.  
The blonde steps aside to let her in, her robe slipping open to reveal a teasing glint of black lace panties that match the bralette, and _oh god, how is she supposed to last a minute, better yet the whole night, when Clarke looks like this?_

She steps inside; suddenly more than a little aware of the worn running shorts and old band t-shirt she’s wearing that definitely don’t match up to Clarke’s outfit. She tugs at the hem, shuffling awkwardly in the hallway and trying to come up with things to distract Clarke from her shabbiness. It’s a lost cause when she gets a view of Clarke’s ass as the blonde closes the door. The robe is shorter in the back than it is in the front, revealing just enough of soft, round cheeks to have Lexa practically drowning in her own drool. 

She’s so transfixed with the creamy skin before her that she misses the first half of Clarke’s question.

“- in the living room or in my bedroom?”

Thirsty as Lexa is, she’s immediately bombarded with images of her and Clarke fucking on the couch and in the leather chair in front of the fireplace (because she’s a god damn romantic, of course). She has to forcibly swallow the groan that threatens to leave her at the thought of having Clarke bent over her desk, wet and willing and clenching around her.

Clarke’s chuckle brings her back to the present, forcing her eyes up from where they’ve been firmly glued to her cleavage. Her cheeks flood with heat the second she sees that familiar teasing smirk on Clarke’s lips.

“Uh- wh- what?”

Clarke is kind enough to withhold her teasing, and only winks at her before sauntering closer, hips swaying and dark blue eyes smoldering.

“I said: Do you want to eat in the living room or in my bedroom?” She reaches out a hand to trail it down Lexa’s arm, raking her blunt nails against her bicep before wrapping her fingers around it and squeezing gently.

Lexa blinks several times, body flushing with the proximity of Clarke. Another onslaught of images hits her, this time of her eating Clarke out on the kitchen counter, thick thighs wrapped around her head and slick gathering on Lexa’s chin. She can practically taste her on her tongue already…

“Lex?”

Yet again she’s let her mind wander, and her blush only deepens when Clarke lets her gaze travel down to the tent between her legs. _God, Lexa, keep it together for_ **once** , _will you?_

“Wherever you want is fine.” Her voice bristles on several syllables, and she thanks the gods when Clarke yet again withholds her teasing.

The blonde stays quiet for several seconds, eyes locked on Lexa’s crotch. When a pink tongue darts out to lick those same lips that Lexa has been having daydreams about since she first tasted them (well, let’s be honest: since way before that), her cock twitches in her shorts. Clarke’s gaze shoots to hers immediately, dark blonde eyebrow quirking knowingly. The fingers around Lexa’s bicep tighten ever so slightly, and Lexa fights the urge to growl as she watches black pupils swallow ocean blue.

The stupidity of her flustered behavior hits her suddenly: Clarke invited her here to fuck. _This isn’t a date; she wants you here because you make her cum better than her boyfriend – nothing more_. (She _does_ take pride in that fact, but she’s not about to boast it to Clarke.)  
_This is no time to act like a lovesick puppy, Lexa. Get your shit together._

She swallows the lump in her throat that the thought of Finn inevitably leaves in her throat, and sets the pizza box down on the table by the front door. She smirks when she takes a step closer to Clarke and sees the blonde swallow at their proximity. With a surge of confidence she didn’t know she possessed she trails a finger along Clarke’s jaw and down her throat and chest, stopping at the swell of her left breast. Tapping a finger at the warm skin, she shifts her gaze from those magnificent tits up to Clarke’s eyes and licks her lips.

“Now that I think about it… I’m not really in the mood for pizza.”

Clarke shudders as Lexa’s other hand comes up to grasp her hip. She looks up at Lexa through thick lashes and croaks. “Yeah? What are you in the mood for?”

Lexa smirks and fits her hand inside Clarke’s robe, seeking out her full breast and squeezing it softly through the bralette. Clarke arches into her touch, subconsciously pressing herself more firmly against Lexa. 

“I can think of more tempting things to eat.” Lexa drops her voice an octave and leans in to brush her lips against Clarke’s cheek, thumb seeking out the stiff nipple that pokes out against the lace. Clarke’s moan is shuddery and low, her breath warm against Lexa’s neck. The brunette uses all the strength in her to keep her knees from buckling at the feeling, and she pinches Clarke’s nipple with her thumb and index finger almost from reflex.

The next thing she knows Clarke’s hand has found its way into her hair and their lips collide in a messy, hungry kiss. Lexa doesn’t waste time in pushing her tongue into Clarke’s mouth, eager to taste her, and the action earns her a low groan. Clarke’s hips grind into hers, her other hand scratching impatiently at Lexa’s shoulder before dipping down to tug at the hem of her t-shirt.

Lexa grasps Clarke’s hips with both hands and grinds into her more purposefully, reveling in the tiny whimper that the blonde releases into her mouth. She catches Clarke’s lower lip between her teeth and tugs, smirking when Clarke gasps and shudders against her. She pulls back for only a second to tug her shirt off before catching Clarke’s lips again, licking into her mouth and groaning at the taste of vanilla and _Clarke_.

Clarke’s hands are everywhere; scratching at her shoulders, smoothing over her sweat slicked abs, and Lexa’s skin is scorching from the touch. She slides her palms around Clarke’s hips and over the swell of her ass, squeezing the soft globes and tugging her firmer against her. Clarke groans and sucks Lexa’s tongue between her lips, hips grinding into hers more firmly with every nibble of her lips.

Lexa’s already fully hardened by now, her cock twitching where it’s pressed against Clarke’s stomach. Every roll of Clarke hips sends a throb along her length, heat coiling in her stomach. She knows that it’ll become painful in a matter of minutes if things don’t move along soon, but tasting Clarke’s tongue and swallowing her whimpers has her craving something else entirely.

She slides her hands underneath Clarke’s robe and grips her thighs firmly, tugging upwards, and Clarke gets the memo straight away. She jumps up, legs circling Lexa’s waist and arms circling her neck. Their lips don’t disconnect for a second, Clarke only changes the angle to deepen the kiss, and the low groan she emits against Lexa’s lips as she grinds against her stomach has Lexa’s mind swimming.

Lexa doesn’t know where Clarke’s bedroom is, and she doesn’t have the patience to find out, so she just carries Clarke to the nearest surface she can find that’s big enough to fit the blonde, which is the island in the kitchen. Clarke doesn’t seem to mind at, judging from her eager groan when her ass hits the cool marble. Lexa barely registers the clatter of several kitchen utensils hitting the floor, too caught up in the feel of Clarke’s lips against her throat and her hot center pressed against stomach.

“Shit, sorry.” She breathes against Clarke’s neck just as the blonde untangles herself from Lexa to shed the robe from her body. Lexa’s stunned for a moment, her attention completely drawn to the newly revealed set of lingerie that has been playing on her mind for the past three hours. She lets her gaze travel along Clarke’s body slowly.

The bralette is even more revealing than what Lexa could ever imagine; the generous swell of Clarke’s breasts almost spilling out of the skimpy lace. Lexa can easily make out her rich, pink nipples through the fabric, and her tongue aches to taste them. She lets her gaze travel down the smooth skin of Clarke’s stomach towards her panties. Her cock twitches when she sees the dark patch forming there.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean it up la- _fuck_.” Clarke’s breath hitches when Lexa shoves the bralette aside and sucks a nipple into her mouth. She laves it with her tongue, circling the tip before grazing her teeth against it. Clarke’s skin is sweet on her tongue, leaving Lexa craving more with every swipe.

She releases the nipple with a wet pop and looks up at Clarke as she trails a hand down between her thighs. The brush of her fingers against soaked underwear pulls a groan from the blonde, and Lexa smirks up at her. 

Lexa has never felt as nervous and yet as confident with a girl as she does with Clarke. She’s never been the shy type in bed, but she’s never been the dominant one either- not until Clarke. The majority of the girls she’s slept with have been one night stands, and while neither she or these girls have been left disappointed after said one night stands, it’s never been mind-blowing for Lexa.

She’s never slept with someone she doesn’t like; the girls have always been charming and cute. And until recently Lexa thought that was enough. But being with Clarke has made Lexa realize that her sex life has been _severely_ lacking. 

After sleeping with Clarke for the first time her endeavors with other girls left her flustered and aching for _more_. The first couple of weeks Lexa wasn’t even sure what _more_ she was aching for, but as time progressed she came to realize that what she was lacking was the _connection_. She’s never fucked a girl and felt the same spark that she feels when she’s holding Clarke’s gaze when she rides her. She’s never fucked a girl and felt like she does when Clarke comes and Lexa feels like her whole body is melting and imploding at the same time. She’s never wanted to feel and touch and taste a girl as much as she does when she’s with Clarke. 

The thought has her both burning with desire and cringing at her own weakness. She’s never let a girl get to her like this. Not since Costia. 

The bittersweet memories of Costia sting; she was Lexa’s first love – sweet and passionate and caring. Lexa loved her long before they got together, ever since Costia clocked her worst bully in middle school right in the face. Lexa had been convinced for most of her life that she was damaged goods; orphaned at age eleven and left with a rebel sister to take care of her, different from every other kid on the playground and with an insecurity that ran straight to her bones. Growing up with typical male genitals hadn’t given her much distress - not until middle school. That’s when the teasing had started. Where P.E. had been fun and something she had excelled at in elementary school, Lexa was left humiliated and ridiculed in the locker rooms, simply because of her anatomy. It had left her broken and ashamed. But then Costia had transferred to their class halfway through their first semester, and suddenly Lexa had a friend that refused to judge her based on her genitals. Costia was fierce, loyal, accepting, and Lexa had never felt safer than when she was with Costia. They were like one; never leaving each other’s side and always standing up for each other. When John Murphy made a snark about Costia’s hair ( _god, Lexa loved that hair; it was thick and curly and dark and perfectly matched her chocolate skin_ ) Lexa had no problem shoving him to the ground and landing quite a few good punches to his smug face. The detention she got was more than worth it when Costia held her hand the whole way to the principal’s office, and later that night Lexa had her first kiss with the girl she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. Three years of being Costia’s girlfriend, and Lexa’s heart still fluttered whenever she saw her across the schoolyard. Her stomach still clenches sometimes whenever she thinks of the day she lost her. To this day she’s still scared of hospitals.

 

Clarke shudders when Lexa dips beneath the waistband of her panties and slides her fingers along her slit. She’s _dripping_ , hot and soft against Lexa’s fingers, and her hips buck up when Lexa parts her lips slowly, teasingly.

“Oh my – _fuck_ …”

Lexa swallows the blonde’s whimper with her own lips as the flicks her finger against the swollen nub of Clarke’s clit, the slick juices helping her finger glide easily. Clarke bucks and grinds herself against her hand, and _god, if Clarke’s shamelessness in search of pleasure isn’t the sexiest thing Lexa’s ever seen…_

Lexa watches Clarke’s face intently as she dips lower to circle her entrance, shuddering at the fresh gush of arousal slipping through her fingers. Clarke’s gasping and thriving against her, hands tugging at Lexa’s hair as the brunette slips inside just barely. Lexa feels her face stretch into a grin as Clarke tips her head back and moans when Lexa teases her finger inside her to the first knuckle, circling against the tight ring of muscle.

“ _Jesus_ , Lexa, that feels - ”

Lexa kisses her before she manages to finish her sentence, and breaks the kiss even faster before trailing her lips down Clarke’s torso. She makes sure to pay diligent attention to Clarke’s nipples, sucking and nibbling before switching to the other, thriving in the moans her actions draw from the blonde. 

Clarke arches into her lips, gasping with every pass of her teeth and tongue. Lexa groans and feels her cock twitch forcefully against her shorts when Clarke pushes more of her breast into her mouth, and she rolls her hips against thin air. She pulls away to catch her breath, but it doesn’t do her much good when she catches Clarke’s gaze.

Okay, so she’s kind of definitely fucked when it comes to this girl.

Clarke is staring back at her with hooded eyes, cerulean blue completely devoured by her pupils, lips parted and glistening as she stares at Lexa like she’s a feast to be devoured. Her chest is heaving, breasts spilling out and shining with Lexa’s saliva, nipples dark pink and puckered. The sight has Lexa’s toes curling.

The speed in which she rids Clarke of her panties is, frankly, rather impressive. If there were ever a competition for ‘speedy underwear removal’, she’d probably take first place. (She’d most definitely take home the prize for thirstiest individual too, because _damn, the way Clarke’s juices drip down the insides of her thighs_ …)

*** 

Lexa’s tongue is like _molten fucking lava_ against her slit, and Clarke’s heavy groan is thick with relief. _Fucking finally_.

She doesn’t even spare a thought to the fact that they literally fucked less than a day ago, because Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever felt this desperate for Lexa before. The second she woke up this morning (from a more than slightly wet dream starring a certain football player – and no, it wasn’t Finn), she’s been aching and seeping into her underwear like some petty animal in heat. Her whole day was spent rubbing her thighs together not so subtly and trying desperately to come up with an excuse to get Lexa to herself for as long as fucking possible. When the text came in from her mom letting her know that she had been called into work the whole weekend, Clarke had practically flung her belongings into her bag and clambered out of the classroom faster than… Well, faster than that one time Clarke was so worked up Lexa made her cum just from one pinch to her clit.

 

Lexa runs her tongue up through Clarke’s fold torturously slow, groaning lowly against her when the blonde shudders and gushes. She looks down to see Lexa staring right back up at her, eyes dark and glowing, slick glistering on her chin. She curls her tongue around Clarke’s clit before sucking it into her mouth, and Clarke’s hand flies out to tangle in her hair. She gasps and jerks when those plump lips suckle her firmly, tongue slurping obscenely as it laps up the juices spilling from her. Clarke can’t help it when she starts a slow grind against Lexa’s tongue. She feels the brunette smirk against her swollen sex, and huffs out a laugh when Lexa growls teasingly and grips her hips to encourage their languid rolls. 

“Fuck, Clarke,” Lexa’s breath is scorching hot against her, fanning over her clit and against her stomach and thighs, and Clarke whines both from the heat and from the absence of the brunette’s delicious tongue. “Have I told you how fucking good you taste?”

The comment makes Clarke clench around nothing. She tugs Lexa firmly against her again, and starts shamelessly grinding against her mouth, her chin, her cheeks, smearing her arousal on her. Lexa moans deep and throaty against her, vibrations rippling up Clarke’s spine like the thumping bass of a nightclub rave. The familiar heat starts coiling in her stomach rapidly. It crawls out through her limbs, leaving a blazing trail behind. She's close, so close, she can almost taste the white dots that prickle on her skin and threaten to swallow her sight. _Fuck_.

“ _Fuck_ , Lexa, I’m gonna cum.”

The football player snakes a hand up her stomach and to her breast, and she pinches the puckered nipple between her fingers just as she pushes her tongue inside as deep as she can go. Clarke’s spine arches almost painfully, her whole body seizing up like solid rock, before the wave of her orgasm crashes over her. It’s so powerful she almost can’t take it, her walls clenching and fluttering forcefully as Lexa works her tongue into her over and over again. Her throat stings with the force of her scream, the orgasm not letting up for several long seconds as it crashes over her again and again. At one point she hears something crash to the floor, the distinct sound of glass breaking, and she’s fairly convinced it was caused by her flailing arms as she tries to find something to hold onto through the undulations of her body.

When Lexa finally relents and pulls back to look at her Clarke can barely keep her eyes open, her skin sweat slicked and her thighs trembling through the aftershocks. She whimpers when cool breath hits her clit, thighs clamping shut as the oversensitive nub pulses weakly. A throaty chuckle filters through the air, and the sound alone sends another shudder through her. _Fuck, this girl…_

She manages to tilt her head down far enough to look at Lexa, and the sight has her already clenching and ready for round two.

Lexa’s lips and chin are glistening with Clarke’s cum, smug smirk in place, and she’s looking at Clarke like she’s the most mouthwatering thing in the world. A _very_ talented tongue pokes out to lick at the remnants of juices on plump lips, leaving Clarke a puddled mess when Lexa closes her eyes in a moan. _Even with a boyfriend, she’s still a gay disaster when it comes to Lexa._

She conceals her sudden onslaught of affection with an eye roll and a light shove to the brunette’s shoulder before tugging her up to her. Lexa fits herself between Clarke’s legs and molds their bodies together, leaning in to capture her lips in a surprising tender kiss. Clarke melts into it easily, cheeks flushing slightly when Lexa pulls back to look at her through her lashes. 

A silence stretches between them, thick with tension and unspoken confessions, as they stare at each other. Clarke takes a moment to memorize all the different specks of color in Lexa’s eyes, mentally cataloging each one for her next painting, and then mentally berating herself for doing so. Lexa just stares back at her like she’s trying to decipher something, gaze heavy and burning, unrelenting – almost… pleading? Clarke feels it all the way to her fingertips, and it kickstarts an intense fluttering in her ribcage. The flutter soon settles to the familiar lump of guilt in her chest, but this time it’s not because of Finn or her father. 

This feels like the moment, their moment, when things might finally shift into place, if only she can gather the courage to say something. She feels like this is it; this is the moment where she’ll finally tell Lexa everything. Tell her she’s head over heels for her, tell her she’s been craving her like a drug ever since she met her, tell her she wants everything Lexa is willing to give her. The thought scares her to death, but Lexa is looking at her like she would gladly go into battle and die for Clarke if she asked her to, and _fuck, this is it_ – 

And then Clarke realizes she’s been silent for too long, as Lexa’s gaze goes from vulnerable and pleading, to guarded. She pulls back to smirk at the blonde, but it'ß all wrong. Her eyes are dull, her acquired confidence not quite reaching them. Clarke’s stomach plummets at the knowledge that she’s the reason for it, and she swallows down the bile that rises in her throat knowing that she just went and fucked up what could have been the best moment of her life. The moment is wholly and completely ruined, and it’s because she couldn’t get her mouth to fucking open when Lexa was practically screaming her confessions with her eyes.

Attempting to play along with the teasing nonchalance that Lexa’s displaying ( _was forced to use, to guard herself, because you fucked up_ ) only makes her stomach clench and roll uncomfortably, so she decides to forego it all and dives in to crash her lips against Lexa’s. The football player gasps against her mouth, her own lips unresponsive for several seconds as she stands there in shock, but Clarke only kisses her harder, pouring the words she’s unable to speak into the kiss. She slots their mouths together over and over again, cupping her hand behind Lexa’s neck and tugging her closer to her, whining desperately when Lexa finally responds and crowds closer to her. Strong arms circle around her waist and hold her, and Clarke almost wants to cry, because she’s never felt fucking safer than when Lexa holds her.

They break apart with identical gasps, lashes fluttering and breaths mingling as Clarke struggles to suck air into her lungs. She’s so fucking desperate to just scream the words out loud, but Lexa’s eyes are still guarded, even as Clarke can see confusion and a tiny sliver of hope mingle with the flecks of gold along green. 

Lexa kisses her again before she’s able to organize her thoughts, and it’s so intense and wanting that Clarke can’t silence the moan that spills into the brunette’s mouth. She needs to feel her; _all of her_ , and her hands reach for anything they can find. She runs her fingers along strong shoulders, down the ridged muscles of Lexa’s back, over her ass and around to scratch against her stomach. Lexa groans against her lips when Clarke palms her breasts and kneads them, pulling back briefly to shed her sports bra before leaning in to capture the blonde’s lips again. Tongues tangle, teeth pull at lips, and Clarke feels dizzy with the taste of her cum on Lexa’s tongue.

She breaks the kiss to trail her lips along Lexa’s neck, sucking and nipping the tender skin as she slides one hand down and beneath her shorts to cup her. She gasps when she realizes Lexa isn’t wearing any underwear, her cock heavy and full between her legs. Lexa jerks and groans when Clarke flicks her thumb against the swollen head, drops of precum already spilling freely from the tip. Clarke gives her a slow pump from base to tip, arching into Lexa’s body when the football player whimpers against her ear.

She uses her free hand to tug Lexa’s shorts down from her hips, the fabric sliding down her legs to pool at her feet. Lexa steps out of them without looking down, using her foot to fling them somewhere across the room. Clarke leans back to take her in, letting her eyes rove over her body appreciatively, licking her lips when she sees her cock.

She can never quite get over how sexy Lexa’s cock is. It’s smooth and tan, the shade a little darker than the rest of Lexa’s body, and there’s the slightest hint of a vein pulsing along its underside. It’s long enough to reach just below Lexa’s bellybutton, probably closer to 7 inches, maybe even 8, and as thick as three of Clarke’s fingers in width. The thought alone of what Lexa’s able to do to Clarke with that beautiful piece of anatomy has the blonde in a slick mess in a matter of seconds.

Lexa brings Clarke out of her reverie with a slow pump of her hips, her cock sliding easily in Clarke’s hold. She sighs in relief when Clarke tightens her grip slightly, beginning a steady pace of strokes along her length. Clarke feels hands come up to her breasts, slender fingers stroking and pinching her puckered nipples, and she grins when another trickle of precum slips from the head. When she chances a glance up at Lexa the girl looks conflicted between looking at her tits and her face, plump lower lip stuck between her teeth as her gaze flits steadily between the two ( _three?_ ). Lexa was always a sucker for her tits. Clarke decides to make the decision easy for her, pulling her close to give her a filthy kiss, all tongue. Lexa groans into her mouth when Clarke ups the pace of her hand, alternating between stroking her fully, and focusing on the head. She twists her wrist with every other stroke, flicks her thumb across the leaking slit, and soon Lexa is bucking against her and gasping against her lips.

“Oh my- _fuck_ , Clarke, I’m close.”

Clarke feels the desperation build in her chest with every shudder that runs through Lexa’s body. She captures the brunette’s gaze and holds it as she ups the pace of her hand yet again.

“Please, Lexa…” Lexa scrunches her eyes closed as her hips pump harder into Clarke’s hand, but the blonde pulls her right back to her with a nudge of their noses together.

“Look at me, baby.” It’s barely above a whisper, but Lexa’s eyes fly open a split second later. They struggle to focus on each other from their proximity, but Clarke is intent on watching the moment Lexa’s walls will inevitably crumble when she finally comes.

“Please, Lexa…” She repeats, longing lacing her words. “I want you.”

There’s a clear double meaning behind her words, and she knows Lexa catches on to it when the brunette gasps sharply against her lips. A second that feels like an hour goes by as Lexa’s eyes bore into hers, vulnerable and desperate, and then Lexa’s whole body shudders violently as she comes. 

Thick ropes of cum spill from her cock and paint Clarke’s stomach, and the blonde feels a shiver of her own travel up her spine as a completely unexpected orgasm washes over her. _Holy shit_. Lexa comes and comes, cock twitching and throbbing in Clarke’s hand, and the football player lets out a disbelieving groan when Clarke kisses her and another pulse spills from the tip. Clarke strokes her through it, milking her of everything she has, until it finally tapers down and Lexa slumps against her body.

They stay pressed against each other for several minutes, breathing heavily against each other’s skin. Clarke clutches Lexa’s shoulders and back tightly; unable to let a single moment of having her in her arms go to waste. Her chest feels tight, heart fluttering like crazy, but her stomach is in knots. _This isn’t how it’s supposed to be…_

She presses her lips to the damp skin on Lexa’s temple again and again, murmuring quietly and stroking her back as Lexa slowly gains her senses again. Clarke’s heart clenches a little when Lexa, instead of pulling back, winds her arms tighter around her and buries her face in her neck. 

Her heart positively breaks when she hears a tiny, barely there sniffle.

Unable to say what she really wants - _because her chest if fucking cracking open_ \- she just holds Lexa closer as she whispers.

“Stay with me tonight?”

Lexa trembles in her arms, fingers digging into Clarke’s back is if she’s afraid she might slip away if she let go. Several seconds go by, and Clarke chews her lip and fights the tears as she prepares for rejection, before Lexa gives a tiny nod against her collarbone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather short chapter, but I swear I will make it up to you.
> 
> I know, you'll probably hate me for this, but I read your comments, and I finally have some ideas for where I want to take this story. So I'm sorry for the angst, but I promise that Clexa will be endgame 10000%. And either way, there's no way I'm writing Flarke, so if you're worried about that, don't be.  
> There isn't a lot of smut in this chapter, but I've already got the outline for the next chapters, so all I need from you is a little feedback and a lot of patience, and we'll have this angsty mess fixed in no time. For those of you who have read my other fics, you know I'm not the type to hold back on the smut. Don't worry, there will be plenty of it in the next chapters. I'm still trying to get the hang of writing anything OTHER than smut lol. With that in mind, feedback (and constructive criticism) is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think of this chapter! Seriously, your comments are what keeps me going. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to read your feedback, you guys are the best.
> 
> Also, hit me up on tumblr: https://aigoufa.tumblr.com/

It took them a while to untangle from each other. Even in her haze Lexa managed not to make a complete fool of herself, opting to stay cradled in Clarke’s arms and pretending that her almost desperate grip on the girl was simply post-sex cuddles, until she could control the sudden surge of emotions that fell over her. She’s pretty sure Clarke noticed something was up, but the blonde was kind enough not to mention it. Lexa isn’t sure what she would’ve said to explain herself anyway. _I’m pretty sure we had a moment just now, and it felt so fucking amazing I can hardly breathe, but I’m not even sure if you felt it, and God, Clarke, I just fucking love y-_ No, Lexa’s not about to ruin everything they have just because she let her feelings get the best of her. It hurts so much she feels like her chest is going to crack open, but she’s won’t give up her only way of being with Clarke, even if it’s just halfway.

As soon as the blonde leads them up to her room Lexa practically sprints to the bathroom. The door locks with a soft click and she’s instantly a shaking mess, knees weak and uncooperative as she clambers to sit on the edge of the bathtub. She drops her head into her hands and breathes deeply, rubbing at her cheeks roughly to clear away the few stray tears that managed to escape. Her head feel sluggish, the remnants of her orgasm still clinging to her nerve endings, involuntary shudders running through her every now and then. She shifts slightly on the bathtub edge to focus on something else, only to cringe as she’s reminded of the stickiness between her legs. _Fucking shit, why do dicks always have to get so messy?_

She stands on wobbly legs to pull down the shorts she haphazardly threw back on down in the kitchen, and grabs several tissues from the counter to wipe herself down. It’s a tedious process, the sticky cum halfway to drying in some places, but soon she’s fairly clean and _finally_ fully softened again. Being hard around Clarke has become such a common occurrence that being anything else around her almost feels unnatural.

She throws the used tissues in the garbage bin and turns to the mirror to check her appearances. Her eyes are slightly puffier than normal, a hint of red rimming them, and her lips are swollen from kissing. Her hair is an utter mess, almost half of her wild curls spilling out of her ponytail, several strands clinging to her still sweaty temples. A quick twirl lets her know that the dull sting on her back is indeed caused by the angry marks Clarke left with her fingernails, and a surge of smug pride rushes through her even as her mind swirls with conflicting emotions. She lifts a hand over her shoulder to carefully trail her fingers along the top of one of them and hisses when the skin burns beneath her touch.

Lexa’s not sure what to make of everything that happened down in the kitchen just a couple of minutes ago. To be honest, it’s all still kind of a blur. She remembers Clarke moaning and shuddering against her tongue, Clarke’s hand wrapped around her cock, Clarke kissing her like she’s the last good thing in the world, Lexa crying like a baby after she came…The embarrassment sits heavy in her chest. She remembers Clarke’s heavy stare just before Lexa was thrown over the edge, her breath hot and sharp against Lexa’s lips. But most of all she’s remembers Clarke’s words, uttered in a desperate plea. 

_I want you._

There’s not a doubt in Lexa’s mind what the real implication of those words could be. She thinks she’s been able to read it in Clarke’s eyes for some time now, she just didn’t know that _that_ was what she was seeing. And _holy fuck_ does this new revelation trigger something wild and fluttering in her chest. Lexa has to grip the edge of the tub _hard_ to ground herself as the thumping of her heart increases with every passing second. _What does this mean? Clarke wants her… Will she break up with Finn? What if she doesn’t? Does this change anything at all? Maybe if she just talked to her…_

She shakes her head hard, desperate to clear the confusing thoughts from her mind. She’s been in here for too long now, Clarke must be getting worried. With a last deep gulp of breath she heads for the door.

*** 

Clarke doesn’t know what to make of all of this. She’s been camped out on her bed for the past 15 minutes waiting for Lexa to finish cleaning up, and all she can think is that she wants Lexa in every sense. And she needs to show her.

She wants her when she’s cocky and still sweat slicked after scoring the winning touchdown of a game. She wants her when she’s calm and fierce during a class discussion. She wants her when she’s gentle and sweet as she drops her little brother off at preschool, kissing his forehead when she thinks no one is watching (Clarke was fortunate enough to witness the endearing sight one morning as she was walking to school. She caught Lexa’s gaze just as little Aden was ushered into the building by a preschool teacher, and the brilliant little blush that spread across Lexa’s cheeks was enough to have Clarke grinning for the rest of the day). 

She wants her when she’s grumpy after a long day of too much studying and not enough food (maybe Clarke’s started buying an extra cup of coffee and those god-awful oatmeal raisin cookies Lexa insists are “delicious and good for your digestive system” to bring to the library, just in case she might bump into her. Maybe she’s secretly hoping to be the reason for that tiny twitch of plump lips and that pretty little blush to spread across her cheeks).

She wants her when she’s sweaty and groaning above her, hips fucking into her with unabashed need, hands groping and lips and teeth desperate to taste everything within reach. _Nipples stiff and eager for attention, abs twitching, cock throbbing…_

Before Clarke can stop herself one of her hands finds its way down her stomach, nails raking through damp curls before her fingers dip into the dripping crease of her cunt. She shudders as she runs the very tip of her index finger over her swollen clit. A series of sharp tingles runs through her cunt, and she arches into the touch, grinding harder against her hand. Her free hand comes up to open her robe, her fingers immediately seeking out a nipple. She pinches it gently as she runs her fingers through her slit, gathering wetness, before running them back up to draw tight circles on her clit. The contact draws a strained whine from deep within her chest.

For several minutes the only sound permeating the silence of the room is Clarke’s fingers working furiously against her clit and her harsh panting. She can already feel her orgasm building rapidly, images flitting through her mind of Lexa above her, beneath her, in her mouth, inside her. Her moan is throaty and low as she dips down to tease at her entrance, imagining Lexa’s cock pushing in. She’s so caught up in the sensation of her fingertips dipping inside that she almost doesn’t notice the sound of the bathroom door opening.

“Clarke, I- oh”

Lexa stands stock still in the doorway, eyes wide as her gaze flits between Clarke’s face and hands. Her jaw drops in a silent groan when she watches Clarke’s fingers sink into her, all the way to the knuckles. Clarke chuckles and bites her lip through a moan.

“I was thinking about you.” 

Her voice is barely above a whisper, but she knows Lexa heard her when the football player visibly shudders. Clarke pumps her fingers once, pulling them almost all the way out before plunging them back in, and she grins and moans as her walls flutter.

Lexa hasn’t moved an inch, her back ramrod straight as she gapes at Clarke. The room is dimly lit, but Clarke can still see the visible dilation of her pupils. She hums and tugs at her nipple, shivering when the stimulation sends an identical spark to her clit.

“Lexa… I need you.” She whimpers, eyes sliding shut as she pumps her fingers slowly, curling them against her front wall with every stroke. She’s soaked, dripping onto the sheets by now, cunt squelching as she fucks herself slowly. A smirk finds its way onto her lips as she hears a low groan from across the room. It takes her a moment to open her eyes, but when she does she’s unable to stop herself from gushing around her fingers.

Lexa is still standing in the doorway, one hand propped up against the doorframe as she pants heavily. Her eyes are hooded, hungry, as she drinks the blonde in. Clarke feels herself clench when a pink tongue pokes out to lick at a plump lower lip. She lets her graze travel over Lexa’s lithe frame, smoothing over strong shoulders, over the gentle swell of perky tits, down taut abs before inevitably landing…

_Oh, god…_

Lexa’s shorts have somehow disappeared, and her cock is heavy and full between her legs, twitching and dripping and _fuck_.

Clarke gasps when slender fingers grip the base of the cock, giving it a slow pump. She gives an answering pump of her fingers, spreading her legs wider to reach deeper inside herself. Her thumb swirls lazy circles on her clit, and she rocks her hips slowly against the friction.

“Lexa, please…”

*** 

As if Lexa wasn’t already overwhelmed, the sight of Clarke fucking herself on the bed has her mind going blank and running into overdrive all at once. Even though her thoughts are screaming at her to sit Clarke down and _just tell her everything_ , her body has a mind of its own. Before she knows it her shorts have dropped to the floor, and she’s slowly pumping her cock as she watches Clarke’s fingers disappear into slick heat. 

“Lexa, please…”

And of course Clarke knows the exact way to break Lexa’s defenses. She’s almost a little scared with how easily this goddess of a girl can suck the breath right out of her lungs and leave her a shivering mess. All thoughts of talking flee from her mind, and all that’s left is this deep _longing_ to give Clarke all of her.

She takes slow, shaky steps towards the bed, grinning despite herself when she pumps her cock and Clarke moans breathily. Beads of precum trickle down from the head to meet her fingers, and she squeezes as she tugs on her length to coax out more. She’s already pounding steadily, aching to settle between Clarke’s legs and sink into her.

Clarke reaches out for her the second she’s beside the bed. Lexa barely has a second to catch herself to prevent knocking heads with the blonde, but she still topples onto her rather unceremoniously, and neither can stop their giggles as their legs get tangled in the sheets. Lexa huffs dramatically as she struggles to right herself, and the answering kiss Clarke gives her has her toes curling and warmth pooling in her stomach. It’s sweet, fond, and it all feels so good, so _natural_ , she forgets for a moment that they’re not together. She curls her hand behind Clarke’s neck and smiles into their next kisses, her breath hitching when she feels an answering grin on the blonde’s lips. It tastes like sweet fucking victory to have this girl sighing and tugging her closer with just a brush of her lips. Despite their nakedness, the act is innocent, intimate, and _Clarke isn’t backing out of it_.

She feels the words bubble up her throat as easily as the wind passes through the sky, but they never make it through the barrier of her lips because suddenly she’s clambering to her feet and taking several steps away from the naked girl on the bed. A split second later her hip bumps into Clarke’s desk and the clatter of books and knick-knacks hitting the floor is deafening in the room, but she can barely register it through her own panting.

“Lex?”

Clarke’s voice is muffled in her ears, like they’re standing on either end of a tunnel, and suddenly Lexa’s vision is blurring, darkness creeping in on either side and _fuck, she can’t breathe_.

Her back hits the wall and she slides down along it, the softness of the carpet itching on her bare bottom as she hugs her knees to her chest, eyes scrunched closed. Her lungs work on overtime as she desperately tries to fill them with air, heaving in gulp after gulp, but they never seem to fill properly. A violent shiver wracks her body, but then there are warm hands on her forearms and she can just make out the sound of Clarke’s voice.

“Lex. Lexa, look at me. Breathe for me, Lexa.”

Breathe? That’s what she’s trying to do! She’s trying, but she can’t… She- it’s not-

“Lexa. In and out, slowly. That’s it, in and out.”

In and- right, she forgot out. In and out. In and out.

Clarke’s hands are gentle as they smooth over her arms, gently prodding her to loosen her grip. Lexa feels her heartbeat slow down, feels the ache in her lungs lessen as she breathes in slowly through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. The darkness seeps out from her vision until she slumps her head back against the wall, a single tear prickling down her cheek. Clarke’s thumb is there to catch it before it makes it any further. Lexa shivers at the soft contact.

“I- I’m sorry.” She whispers. The words crackle in the space between them, but Clarke only shushes her with a kiss to her forehead.

“Lexa.” Another kiss; this time on her knee. It’s a barely there brush of her lips, but Lexa still feels it all over her body.

“I- Clarke, I’m sorry.”

Her breathing picks up again, the ache settling in her stomach and lungs, but Clarke cups her cheeks and forces her to look at her.

“Lexa, hey. Look at me. What are you sorry for?”

“I-“ A sob escapes her before she can stop herself, and her hands clench into fists as she forcefully tears her gaze from shining blue eyes.

Clarke leans forward and rests their foreheads together, wiping more stray tears as she closes her eyes and releases a shaky breath.

“Lexa…”

Her voice is quiet, pleading, an aching vulnerability clinging to the words, and _fuck, Lexa’s chest burns even harder_.

“Can… Can we talk?”

She’s barely able to force the words out, her throat constricting as she swallows around a sob.

Clarke’s exhale is shuddery and warm against Lexa’s cheeks, her fingers trembling as they cradle her jaw, and the blonde nods carefully before releasing her and shuffling back a few paces.

Lexa lifts a trembling hand to wipe her cheeks, cringing at the bit of snot on her upper lip, before standing on shaky legs. Clarke’s hand twitches subconsciously, like she thinks the brunette is about to flee, but Lexa only murmurs unintelligibly before bending to pick up her shorts. She dresses slowly, shuffling over to Clarke’s dresser to find something to cover her upper body because she feels _exposed_ , even though the blonde has seen her naked more times than she can count. The soft cotton of the t-shirt she tugs on smells like Clarke, and Lexa feels almost dizzy as she inhales shuddery.

Clarke follows suit after the initial relief that Lexa isn’t leaving washes over her, tying her robe and rising to sit on the bed. She shuffles back until she’s leaning against the headboard; knees tucked against her chest much like Lexa’s were only moments ago.

Lexa sucks in another couple of gulps of air before finally letting her gaze land on the girl.

“I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

Clarke looks baffled for a moment, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as she stares at Lexa in confusion. A flash of hurt crosses her face, and Lexa almost crumbles and takes it back, but it disappears before she can react.

“What- what do you mean?”

*** 

She never thought it would end like this. To be honest, she never thought it would end at all. Realistically, she knows they can’t go on like they’re are forever, but it never occurred to her that Lexa might not continue to be a part of her everyday life. Up until now it’s felt inevitable that she gets to spend her time with what is undoubtedly the most amazing human being she’s ever known. Getting to experience the phenomena that is Lexa Woods, with the wild brown hair and forest green eyes, with the intellect and passion and _compassion_ that Clarke has come to love. _Fuck, she loves her._ Even the thought of missing out on Lexa’s cheeky grins and soft touches and smoldering presence has Clarke’s heart clenching violently in her chest.

She never thought it possible that Lexa might not want to be with her.

“What- what do you mean?”

The words taste like acid on her tongue, and she forces air into her lungs as she watches the brunette hunched against the wall on the opposite side of the room. She can read the emotional turmoil on the girl’s face, and it only leaves a heavy lump in the pit of her stomach. She clenches her fists in the sheets to keep from reaching out to her.

“I-“ Lexa’s throat bobs as she swallows thickly, fingers trembling at her sides. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

The silence is deafening as the words sink in.

“Lexa… What do you mean?” She tries again, eyes stinging with unshed tears as she fights the reality of it all.

“Clarke…” It’s a plea, to understand, to argue, to fight, to let go, Clarke doesn’t know. Those green eyes are wide with vulnerability, with desperation.

“Lexa…”

“I think I lo-“ The shrill ringing of Clarke’s phone interrupts Lexa, and the blonde springs into action as she clambers to grab the device from her nightstand. As if on instinct, she freezes as she sees the familiar picture of Finn on her screen.

“Is it him?”

Lexa’s voice is barely above a whisper, but there’s a harsh bite to her tone, a coldness that seeps right into Clarke’s bones.

She gives a shaky nod, ending the call before turning her gaze back to the football player. Lexa’s eyes are a steely grey as she stares back at Clarke, hands clenched into fists against her thighs.

“Lexa… What were you-“

“No, I can’t.”

Before Clarke knows it Lexa is halfway down the stairs, and she can feel the tears springing from her eyes even before she manages to stumble to her feet to follow her. 

_No, it wasn’t supposed to go like this._

When she makes it down the stairs, the brunette has already managed to put on both her shoes, yanking the bottle of vodka from the vanity in the hallway before throwing the door open. She turns on unsteady feet, catching Clarke’s gaze with her own, eyes brimming with tears.

“You- I can’t, Clarke. You’re his, and I- I just can’t.”

With that she twirls and sprints down the driveway, disappearing around the corner before Clarke even manages to open her mouth.

_Fuck._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned from a week in France! It was amazing, despite the two trees that caught fire right by our house and the dead sheep we discovered on a hiking trail. All in all, I give the trip 8/10, would definitely do it again.
> 
> On another note, I am about to embark on a long ass journey of studio recording with the band, which will most likely have an impact on the updates. I know I'm already pretty shitty at consistency, but I do have the outline for the next chapter ready, so I'll just have to find some time to sit my fat ass down and write it. Was going to make it one long chapter, but that didn't happen, so here's half for ya. It's a little shorter than the others, sorry about that.
> 
> Anyways, here's the next chapter for ya! As always, it's heavy on the angst, and unfortunately there's no smut this time either, but I plan on making up for it in the next one! This was a rather hastily written chapter, hope you don't give me too much of a hard time for it. Love to hear your feedback!
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO, QUICK QUESTION:  
> I don't know if you guys have read any of my other fics, but there's one called 'And Here I Thought You Were Taking a Nap', and I was thinking - could it work as a sort of epilogue for this AU? Should I leave it as a stand-alone work, or should I add the two together in a series?
> 
> Double also; hit me up on tumblr: https://aigoufa.tumblr.com/

It’s been three weeks since Lexa ran out on Clarke. Not that ‘ran out’ is really the appropriate phrasing, because Clarke knows that Lexa didn’t ‘ditch’ her like some side chick to ‘hit and quit’. She knows that Lexa didn’t mean to hurt her.

But it’s been three weeks, and Lexa has been avoiding her, and Clarke is _hurt_. She’s so hurt that sometimes it feels like she can’t _breathe_ , and she can’t for the life of her seem to suck enough air into her lungs to get through even half the day before she ends up on some rickety old bench in a random park halfway across town because she can’t stand the thought of possibly breathing the same air as Lexa without actually being _Lexa’s_. She’s gotten enough strange looks from hobos and exercising housewives alike to know she looks like a mess at least half of those times, red rimmed eyes and snotty nose and all.

She still shows up to school like normal because honestly, _what is she supposed to do?_ She doesn’t want her friends getting suspicious. She can’t stand the thought of having to explain to them how she managed to not only cheat on her boyfriend with their mutual friend, but that she also happened to fall in love with her too, only to fuck it all up. And she certainly doesn’t want Lexa to think of her as some pathetic lovesick fool that got too attached. _Even though she sort of is. Who is she kidding, right?_

So she puts on a brave face every day. She still wakes up at 7am to go through her morning routine like she always does, but recently it’s been a hell of a lot harder than it used to be. Because now she keeps waking up either feeling like her sobs are about to rip out of her chest; or drenched in sweat and tingling from bittersweet ( _hot hot hot_ ) dreams of a girl whose heart she probably broke before she even got a chance to show her worth for it. It has left a permanent taste of bile in the back of her throat, and the lump of guilt in her chest keeps swelling with each passing day. 

And yeah, maybe some of these metaphors are cliché as shit, but Clarke can’t think of any other way to explain how absolutely _devastated_ she’s feeling – mostly because she doesn’t know how to fix it. Because Lexa won’t talk to her - she won’t even look at her, and it’s killing her. Clarke hasn’t seen Lexa’s face – at least not up close – even _once_ since that night, and yet; she’s lost count of the times she’s seen a whirl of curly chestnut hair speed walking (even sprinting at one time) away from her just as she turns the corner down a hallway or walks up to the bleachers during break.

She just feels so fucking hopeless, and heartbroken, and guilty, and _fuck. How did she manage to fuck this up before it even started?_

 

*** 

Three weeks. Three weeks of forcing herself to get up and go to school, only to hole herself up in her room the second she gets home, ignoring her friends’ texts and calls, her sister’s probing, her teachers’ worried looks. Three weeks of feeling like her diaphragm is about to burst with the force she has to put into keeping her sobs from bursting free. Three weeks of avoiding seeing the only person she feels like she’s ever wanted to look at – and that, at the moment, feels like the only person she’ll ever want to look at ever again. Three weeks of purposely ignoring any shade of the colors blue and yellow, be it groceries or billboard ads or ballpoint pens or sunsets, because she doesn’t think her heart can stand another onslaught of arrhythmia from the images of Clarke that keep popping into her head at almost any given moment.

Three weeks, and Lexa feels like she might just crumble to the ground with a mere glance at a certain girl.

The bottle of vodka Anya bought her was consumed in whole that same night, but Lexa was the only one to ever taste a drop of it. It had burned just as much on its way up as it did on its way down, and by the time her hangover had cleared it was Sunday night, and Lexa’s throat was sore for a whole other reason. 

Lexa never cries. She can count on one hand the amount of times she has shed tears for anything or anyone: that time when she was six and she broke her arm because she jumped off a boulder during a family hiking trip, and couldn’t stick her landing; that time a stoic social worker named Gustus sat her and Anya down to tell them that their parents had died in a robbery turned murder; and when Costia died. 

Lexa never cries, and yet the second she wasn’t heaving over the toilet bowl, she was cracking open like a burst dam.

It took Anya until Monday afternoon to realize Lexa wasn’t just going through a shitty hangover, but that something was truly wrong. Anya worked afternoons and nights, and by the time she returned from her shifts at the bar she owned downtown, Lexa would usually be fast asleep. She checked in on her little sister that weekend, as she always did when she got home, but the dried tear streaks on Lexa’s cheeks went unnoticed under the wild tussle of her curls in the dim lighting of her bedroom. It wasn’t until Lexa came home from school on Monday thinking she had the apartment to herself, only to find Anya waiting for her on the couch, apparently having ‘taken the day off to finally have some quality time with her Squiddle sister’, that things broke apart. The moment her sister asked about her weekend with Clarke, Lexa couldn’t hold back the sobs. It didn’t take much more for Anya to get the drift.

Three weeks later, and Lexa still doesn’t feel like it’ll get any better.

*** 

Lexa shows up drunk at her doorstep 32 days after _that night_. Clarke can’t suppress her gasp when she throws the door open, bleary eyed and annoyed just after 1am, only to be met with glossy green eyes and the most adorable frown in the whole of existence.

“Uh- Lexa?”

“Clarke!” Lexa throws her arms up so violently Clarke flinches in sympathy. She takes an instinctive step towards the girl, reaching out hesitantly when the football player wobbles on her feet.

“Lex, what – what are you doing here? Are you okay?” 

Clarke valiantly ignores the fluttering of her heart as she finally, _finally_ gets to look at the face she’s missed so fucking much, and she swallows heavily when Lexa levels her with a heavy stare.

“Clarke, I came here t-“ A hiccup halts Lexa’s words, and her frown deepens. But then her pouty lips twitch upwards into a goofy grin, and Clarke feels her shoulders both stiffen and relax when a bubbly little giggle fills the air between them. Her body gives a responsive tingle all the way to her fingertips.

It soon becomes clear that Lexa isn’t going to finish her sentence anytime in the near future, and Clarke huffs a shivery sigh, stepping back and gesturing for the girl to come inside. Lexa stares at her puzzled for a moment before grinning widely and practically tripping over her own feet to follow Clarke into the warmth of her house. She knocks her hip against the doorknob hard, and Clarke flinches yet again in sympathy for the drunken girl in front of her, but Lexa only huffs an annoyed grunt before clumsily toeing off her shoes. Clarke just stares at her, worry and guilt and longing coiling thick in her stomach. The football player is dressed only in jeans and a t-shirt, goosebumps raised all over her bare arms from the late autumn chill. The tugging need to wrap Lexa in her embrace to warm her up (and for other reasons) settles uncomfortably behind Clarke’s ribs.

When Lexa is free from the confines of her heavy leather boots she turns towards Clarke so sharply that the blonde stumbles back a few steps. Lexa reaches out to catch her just as she’s about to knock her head against the wall, slender fingers wrapping around her wrist firmly. Her skin burns with the touch.

“Clarke.” Lexa pronounces her name slowly; the syllables slurred from the haze of what Clarke can only make out to be whisky, from the smell of her. The slight rasp to her voice, as if she’s either been screaming or crying, has hot tears prickling at the back of the blonde’s eyelids, but she forces herself to blink them away before Lexa can see them.

“How much have you had to drink?”

Lexa shrugs and looks away, fingers tightening incrementally around Clarke’s wrist before they drop lower, teasing at the skin of her palm as if she wants to fit their fingers together. Clarke feels her resolve crumble almost immediately, and she’s about to meet her halfway, when Lexa suddenly drops her hand and turns to shakily stumble towards the stairs.

“Lex – Where are you going?”

Lexa doesn’t answer, only continues up the stairs until she’s reached the first door along the halfway. She doesn’t bother asking before she creaks the door open to peer inside, and Clarke is beyond thankful that her mom is working the nightshift again because she doesn’t know how she’d explain a wasted stranger walking into her mother’s bedroom at 1am. Lexa seems to realize her mistake, and she closes the door as quietly as she can (not quietly at all), before stumbling further down the hall, past the door to the bathroom and finally landing in front of Clarke’s open bedroom door. Clarke feels the tendons on her neck quiver when Lexa heaves a deep sigh, as if to gather her courage, before the brunette practically stomps into her room and heaves herself onto the bed.

She follows after Lexa carefully, completely unsure of how to react to the situation, and by the time she’s stepped over the threshold of her own bedroom Lexa has already burrowed beneath the covers. Green eyes peer up at Clarke through thick lashes, and even though the lights are dimmed she can clearly make out the flush that’s spread over Lexa’s cheeks and down her neck. The sight of Lexa in her bed has an involuntary rush of wetness seeping into her panties, but she bites her cheek hard to keep her mind from wandering because Lexa is _clearly_ not in a state to think clearly.

“Lexa…” She tries, and she cringes at the way her voice splinters with the effort to keep the shiver out of her voice. The brunette licks her lips as she watches Clarke step further into the room.

“Clarke.” It’s a whisper, a fucking desperate whisper, and holy shit if Clarke doesn’t feel like her heart is about to drop into her toes at the sound of it.

“Clarke, please…”

_Well, shit._

“Lexa… Talk to me. Please?” 

She steps further into the room, hesitating slightly before settling carefully at the foot of her bed. She watches Lexa as the girl shuffles up the bed to lean against the headboard, her head dropping unceremoniously against the heavy wood. Lexa stares at her for several, excruciatingly long moments. The silence feels thick as syrup between them, and Clarke has to force her gaze away from the sight of Lexa licking her lips again, slowly this time.

Before Clarke can react, Lexa pulls her t-shirt and bra off in one clumsy, but swift movement, and scrambles across the bed to grasp the back of her neck. The next thing she knows there are greedy lips on hers, a tongue probing against her, and firm hands tugging at the waistband of her sleep shorts. Her hands fly out to grasp at Lexa’s sides on instinct, fingers digging into the sharp jut of her hipbones. A wet whimper breaks into the tight space between their mouths, and Clarke inhales sharply, unsure of who even made the sound. Her mind clouds with the taste of Lexa’s tongue on hers; arousal coiling thick between her hips before she even has a chance to think. But then the sharp taste of alcohol suddenly hits her senses, and she pulls back with a pained gasp, fingers grasping tightly around the hand that’s halfway down her shorts.

“Lexa, wait-“

Lexa recoils so hard Clarke’s wrist twists painfully where she’s still holding desperately onto Lexa’s. She forces herself to suck in several sharp gulps of air to calm the rapid beating of her heart, before finally turning her gaze up to Lexa’s. She can practically taste the shame on the football player’s face.

“I- Shit, I’m sorry - _Fuck_.” Lexa hisses, hastily tugging the covers up to drape them over her naked chest. Clarke casts her gaze down respectfully, flitting her fingers into each other to keep from reaching out to the girl. Several agonizing moments of silence stretch between them before Clarke chances a glance up at Lexa.

Her whole chest compresses like an anvil has been dropped onto it when she sees a single tear roll down the delicate slope of Lexa’s cheekbone. Before she even has a chance to reach out to wipe it away Lexa laughs sharply, humorlessly, and it feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on her.

“I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“What? No, Lexa –“

“Forget it, Clarke. I’ll just go home.” Lexa’s managed to swing her legs over the edge of the bed and is halfway to standing, fast even in her drunk state, when Clarke finally reacts. She springs to her feet and rounds on Lexa in less than a second, grasping her shoulders firmly and pushing her back to sit on the bed.

“No. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Clarke…”

“No. You’re drunk, and I’m not going to let you walk home in this state. You’re staying the night.”

“Clarke, I can’t-“

“Lexa, no. Listen to me. You haven’t fucked up anything. I’m the one that fucked up. I- I fucked up so badly, Lex. Okay?” She pushes through the strain in her voice, and reaches out to stroke a hesitant thumb across the brunette’s cheek.

Lexa only stares at her disbelievingly, shoulders slumping under Clarke’s firm grip as the effects of the alcohol finally begin to take their toll on her body.

“We’re going to talk about this tomorrow, okay? But for now, you’re going to sleep, and I’m going to get you a bottle of water and some aspirin. Okay?” She finishes off in a whisper. 

It feels like forever before Lexa finally gives a tiny nod. Clarke gives her what she can only hope is a comforting smile (more like a shaky twitch of her upper lip), before helping Lexa pull her legs up onto the bed and tucking the blankets over her. She brushes a lock of brown curls behind her hair, and Lexa’s lashes flutter at the graze of Clarke’s fingers against her cheeks. 

Clarke hovers over her for another moment, desperately fighting the urge to dip down and place a kiss on Lexa’s cheek, before forcing herself to pull back.

She’s halfway out the door when Lexa croaks from the bed, “Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

“Does he… Does he make you feel as good as I do?”

The fucking heartbreak in Lexa’s voice feels like a punch to her gut, and she has to steady herself against the doorframe to keep from crumbling to the floor. It takes her almost a minute to answer, but when she does Lexa’s already asleep.

“Never.”

When she wakes up on the couch the next day her bed is made and Lexa’s boots are gone.

 

*** 

She breaks up with Finn two days after that. They meet at their usual place; underneath the bleachers, by the stack of withered gym mats that have years worth of beer stains and scorch marks on them from the hundreds of students that trade places using the tiny corner as an escape, passing blunts like they’re the only reason they’ve even made it to sophomore year. Clarke used to love the place; the thrill of sneaking out of class to sneak in a makeout session with the scruffy-haired boy that charmed her with his smile and witty jokes; the late nights when no one in their friend group had anything better to do than pass around a bottle of cheap liquor and play childish drinking games until they either got too drunk or too embarrassed to keep going. 

“How long have you been wanting to break up with me?”

Finn’s voice is gentle, resigned; like he’s pretty sure what the answer will be, but still wants her to give it to him. She feels a rush of affection for the boy, even if her romantic feelings for him are long gone. She still cares about him; he’s been her best friend since freshman year. She doesn’t want to hurt him. But she can’t keep lying to herself about this; she has to tell him the truth.

“I don’t know.” She answers truthfully, because she can’t quite figure out for sure when her physical attraction to Lexa turned into something more, something that strangled her feelings for Finn.

Finn gives her a wry smile, pushing his floppy hair away from his eyes as he shuffles in his seat on the edge of the sun-bleached mattress. Clarke suddenly gets the urge to scoff at him because _how is he acting so nonchalant about this? She’s breaking up with him after three years, for Christ’s sake, shouldn’t he be a little more surprised? Maybe heartbroken, even?_

And, as always, Finn reads her like an open book. He gives a low chuckle, reaching out to touch the top of her hand gently to coax her gaze up to his. When she finally does look up she has to bite her lip to keep it from trembling because he’s staring at her with this _fondness_ that she doesn’t deserve _at all_.

“What?” She asks, cringing at the irritation seeping through her words. She immediately follows it up with an apologetic grimace, but Finn only chuckles deeper, squeezing her hand slightly before pulling back to twiddle his thumbs.

“Let me rephrase. How long have you been in love with Lexa?”

She should have known. Honestly, she should have known that Finn would figure it out eventually. She’s not exactly known to keep her feelings hidden. Even a newly made acquaintance would be able to tell what she was feeling most of the time. No wonder Finn figured it out. He does know her better than most people. _But she thought she’d been so good at keeping them hidden this time…_

Oh well, no use continuing the lie now.

“I don’t know. A while, I guess? Maybe two months…”

“And how long have you been sleeping with her?”

That question has the bile rising in her throat again, and she shifts her gaze from him guiltily.

“Four months.”

Finn only hums at that, scratching the uneven patch of coarse hair on his chin. Clarke watches the action and feels her body settle slowly at the comfort the familiar action brings. Hopefully testosterone will do him good someday. 

There’s no flame anymore, no tug in her lower belly as she watches the boy she once thought she loved, or at least cared for deeply. What’s left is only a sweet fondness for his easy smile and charming humor. She thinks they might even be able to be friends one day. She still feels like she owes him a hell of a lot of work to earn his trust back, though. But maybe someday.

“And is she in love with you too?”

 _Oh. Well, just rip the band aid off, will you?_  
She grinds her teeth to distract herself from the churning in her gut.

“I… Fuck, Finn, I don’t know. I think – I think I fucked it up.”

Finn clicks his tongue at her, leaning back against his hands as he watches her carefully.

“Have you talked to her? Have you told her how you feel?”

“I’ve tried, but as soon as she looks at me it’s like I can’t get my tongue to work properly.” A knowing smirk has her rolling her eyes and scoffing. “You know what I mean.”

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Clarke. You should talk to her.”

“I… What if she doesn’t want me like that?”

“You’re gorgeous and smart and funny, Clarke. She’d be crazy not to want you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

 _God, how is Finn so good?_  
Clarke thinks they could definitely be friends someday. Hopefully soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! They broke up! Stay tuned as Clexa embark on what can only be described as a "confusing as fuck ride".  
> Smut to come in the next chapter. Drop a hint in the comments if you have requests/suggestions for what the nerds should do once they admit their gooey undying syrupy sweet love for each other.
> 
>  
> 
> Pretty proud of myself for coming up with the term "squiddle sister" tbh. If anyone coined that term before me I'll murder them with my bare hands, ya hear?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter looks back on that time Clarke and Lexa first started their... tryst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, it's been forever since I updated. I'm so sorry!  
> I just started uni again and that shit would drain the life out of anyone.  
> I'm hoping this chapter will make up for the long ass time it took me to get over of my writer's block.  
> There's mostly fluff and a hell of a lot of smut, so hopefully you'll all forgive me(?).
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, hit me up on tumblr: https://aigoufa.tumblr.com/

Lexa doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything more beautiful than Clarke Griffin’s porcelain skin glimmering in the afternoon sun. Well, that’s a lie. She can think of several things that are even more beautiful, and they all include Clarke’s smile.

She barely even knows the girl, and she still feels like the whole world should revolve around Clarke. She’s just too damn good for it not to.

Lexa is struck with a wave of regret for turning down the group’s earlier offers of hanging out, because she doesn’t want to miss a single second of watching the blonde grin and laugh like she is right in this moment.

Most of the group is spread out on several makeshift beach beds, their towels damp from several rounds of swimming and their skin flushed from hours of exposure to the sun. Lexa dips her feet back in the water of the lake that’s slowly cooling with the descent of the July sun, and watches on as Monty and Jasper’s discussion escalates into a bout of headlocks and knuckle rubs, both boys lanky and clumsy in their movements. Their laughter is shrill as it rings out over the lake, and Lexa finds herself grimacing slightly when Jasper trips and almost topples both Monty and himself over the edge of the dock. 

A low chuckle sounds right by her ear, and she turns her head to find a set of glassy blue eyes watching her, crinkled with amusement. Lexa’s gaze dips down to pink, oh-so-soft-looking lips before she can stop herself, and the very same set of lips quirk up in further amusement when Lexa is unable to form coherent words for several seconds.

“Not a fan of play fights, huh?”

Clarke’s voice has a delicate timbre to it, soft and gravelly at the same time, and it leaves a warm feeling in the back of Lexa’s throat.

“Oh, uhm, not really.” She chuckles nervously, tangling and untangling her fingers in her lap to keep from reaching out to tuck the few strands of hair that have escaped Clarke’s ponytail, behind her ear. “I’m more of the ‘let’s solve this with a good old-fashioned discussion’ type of gal.”

Clarke hums, her gaze flitting between Lexa’s eyes for a moment before turning towards the water lapping at her feet.

“Yeah, I figured as much. You don’t strike me as the physical type.” She murmurs.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Lexa scoffs in fake offense, nudging her foot against Clarke’s calf where her feet have joined Lexa’s in the water. “I’m way stronger than I look! I could probably bench press you.”

Clarke laughs, nudging Lexa’s foot right back, before turning her gaze to her again. Lexa watches the way the afternoon sun twinkles in the darkest parts of her irises, feels the responding jolts in her chest like tiny zaps of electricity. Clarke’s gaze falls to Lexa’s arms, where the sleeves have been rolled up to reveal sun kissed skin wrapped around lean muscles. It takes Lexa a moment to realize it actually happened, but Clarke definitely licks her lips before meeting her gaze again.

“Yeah, you probably could.”

It sounds so much like flirting that Lexa has to actively suppress her flustered giggle. Something changes in Clarke’s gaze; a miniscule dilation of pupils, a flutter of her lashes, a millisecond where they glaze over. Lexa feels her own pulse thump just a tad bit harder in her throat.

And then she remembers that Clarke has a boyfriend, and that said boyfriend would probably lose his shit if he knew Lexa was ogling his girl like that. Reluctantly, she breaks eye contact and shifts a little in her seat on the rough wood of the floating dock, clearing her throat. Clarke seems to break out of whatever daze she was in, and turns back towards the slowly descending sun.

“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

You’re _beautiful, holy fuck._ She thinks, but she manages to avoid blurting it, too keenly aware of how Clarke’s lashes flutter when a warm breeze swoops over them, and how the mere thought of kissing this girl has her stomach knotting way too pleasantly.

“Yeah,” She answers instead, pulling her legs out of the water and tucking them beneath herself. “It really is.”

“I’m glad you decided to join us.”

Clarke gives her a half-smile, warm and gentle, and Lexa feels her own lips quirking up in a tiny grin.

“Yeah, me too.”

*** 

They’re drunk. Or at least, she is.

Judging from what she can see and hear of her friends scattered around the backyard of the tiny summer house, Clarke thinks she’s right when she says she’s not the only one.  
It’s a quaint little property, the walls of the house old and weathered, and while Clarke will admit that the tiny single beds are less than comfortable, she’s pretty damn jealous of the beautiful location the Miller’s decided to build this vacation home in some 50 years ago. The backyard is fairly large, with lush green grass that leads down to the docks, with only two large oak trees to obscure parts of the view of the lake. Clarke doesn’t mind though; oak trees were her dad and hers favorite. They still are hers.

Raven is currently hopped on Miller’s back, belting the lyrics to one of the many old school rock songs she insisted they play throughout the night, claiming that ‘it’s not a real summer vacay without some Bryan Adams and some good ol’ 69!’.  
Octavia and Lincoln are engaged in a rather intense game of beer pong with Jasper, Monty and Anya, Lexa’s fierce-looking older sister. Clarke hasn’t really gotten the chance to talk to her yet, the stoic older girl usually caught up in whatever game the more actively competitive part of the group has decided to play. She seems nice enough though, once you get over the whole ‘I could murder you with one look’ persona she practically wears like a badge of honor.

Clarke sways a little as she turns from the group and heads towards the porch, where they’ve set up a rather impressive selection of booze for the evening. The air is pleasantly chilly, just hovering on the line of sweater weather, and Clarke hums quietly as she sets about making herself another cup of rum and coke.

“Having fun?” The low, pleasant voice startles her, and she jolts back half a step as she tries to make out where it came from. A chuckle draws her gaze to the porch swing in the corner, barely visible in the pale moonlight. She grins when she finds Lexa huddled under a blanket, feet tucked under herself as she swings gently back and forth. The brunette gives her a tiny little wave, long fingers curling around nothing before they drop back under the blanket. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Hey,” Clarke smiles, sauntering over to hop ungracefully down in the seat next to Lexa. “Why are you sitting here all by yourself?”

“I get cold when I’m drunk.” Clarke thinks she can see a blush bloom across her sharp cheekbones, and finds herself biting her lip at the sight. “Had to sit down for a bit.”

“Oh! You should have told me, I’d have kept you company.” She nudges Lexa, earning another soft chuckle. She can’t stop herself from staring at the way plump lips quirk in a gentle smile.

“Thanks. You looked like you were having fun, though. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Clarke smiles at that, settling further into her seat. Lexa’s voice fascinates her; she doesn’t think she’s ever met someone who speaks as calmly and controlled as her. It’s soothing, like a soft blanket on a chilly night.

That realization brings her out of her thoughts, as a shiver runs through her body. The alcohol is still doing it’s job of keeping her body warm, at least for the most part, but she _is_ only wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt that reaches her midriff. And she’s kind of jealous of Lexa with that blanket. Or she’s jealous of the blanket… _Wait, what? You’re drunk, Griffin._

Lexa glances at her from the corner of her eye, and silently lifts one end of the blanket in an open invitation. Clarke feels something flutter in her chest, the sensation travelling down to her belly and settling there.

“Thanks.” She murmurs, scooting closer to Lexa until their bare thighs are touching, and she’s wrapped snuggly in the warmth of the blanket and the girl next to her. They settle into a comfortable silence as they watch their friends down by the water. Several minutes pass with only the gentle breathing of the pretty girl next to her, but then Jasper’s loud screech as he’s thrown into the water by Lincoln splinters through the air.

 

Clarke jerks, her drink sloshing precariously in her hand. A few droplets hit the fabric wrapped around them, but Lexa only chuckles and takes it from her hand, downing a few long gulps. 

“I thought you said you were already drunk?” Clarke grins, accepting the cup back and taking a few swigs of her own.

“Guess I needed the liquid courage.”

It’s barely above a whisper, but Clarke hears it clear as day. She turns slightly to look at Lexa, and finds the brunette only inches away, her breath warm against Clarke’s cheeks. It’s difficult to make out her face in the dark, but Clarke is pretty sure she doesn’t imagine the way Lexa’s gaze flits down to her lips.

And, shit, Clarke really wants to kiss her…

Lexa doesn’t close the distance between them, but she doesn’t take her eyes away from Clarke’s lips either. Her lashes flutter ever so slightly when Clarke shifts against her, the skin of their thighs brushing together slowly. Clarke feels her pulse thump hard and fast in her chest, and her breathing turns shallow as she reaches out to run her fingers over Lexa’s under the blanket. Lexa gasps softly, her eyes flicking up to Clarke’s for a second, searching, before she hooks their pinkies together. And then Clarke leans in.

It’s slow, curious, warm. Their mouths slot together carefully, Lexa’s plump lower lip quivering ever so slightly where it’s trapped between Clarke’s lips. They break contact only to change angles and lean in again, this time with a bit more firmness to it. Clarke’s heartbeat thuds wildly in her ears when Lexa’s tongue brushes against the seam of her lips, and she feels dizzy with the breathy moan that spills into her mouth when she opens it to invite Lexa further in. Long fingers tangle further with own as Lexa scoots even closer to her, and she’s barely aware of her almost empty drink splashing to the ground when she moves her hand to thread it through the soft curls at the nape of Lexa’s neck.

Lexa tastes like cinnamon and whiskey, and damn it if it isn’t the most addictive thing Clarke has ever tasted.

Their spell is broken just as she’s about to lean in for another taste, when Raven shouts her name from somewhere down by the water.

“Clarkey! Where is that fine ass of yours!? We’re about to light the fireworks!”

They break apart with a gasp, fingers still clasped tightly, and Clarke shivers when she opens her eyes to find Lexa panting heavily only an inch away.

A second later, and Anya joins in on the shouting. “Lexy-poo! Stop your pouting and get your squid butt down here!”

Lexa seems to break out of her daze at that, lashes fluttering and glassy eyes refocusing. She blushes fiercely and quickly retracts her hand from Clarke’s, stumbling over her own feet to create some distance between them.

“Shit, sorry, I- I’m sorry…” Her brows furrow as she wobbles on her feet, but she’s halfway down the steps and making her way down the lawn before Clarke even has a chance to make out what just happened.

*** 

 

Lexa stirs to the sudden rush of cold air across her body. Her mind scrambles for an escape plan before she even has the chance to open her eyes to see what the hell is going on, and her pulse quickens even further when the cold is replaced by something warm and smooth sliding over her exposed midriff and settling by her hip.

“What the-“

Her contacts are out of place, but rubbing her eyes only makes it worse, and by the time she’s able to open them without wincing there’s a similar warmth by her other hip and a shadow hovering over her.

Her vision is still foggy, and with the lack of light in the room there’s not much for her to do other than to gape and sputter up at her nighttime intruder. She’s never been one for screaming – she’s not the dramatic type- and while this would probably be the ideal situation to be one, she feels strangely safe. The shadow above her isn’t doing anything other than sitting on top of her, silently waiting for her to catch up with what is going on. 

And then her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, and she’s able to make out the person currently straddling her under the blankets. And, well, _holy fucking lord of all that is holy_.

“Cl-Clarke?” 

Her voice is barely above a whisper, careful of the occupant of the other bed in the room, even as she’s dumbstruck by the sight above her.

Clarke looks like a fucking goddess. Barely visible in the moonlight that shines through the window, she’s cast in a glow that makes her skin look like porcelain and her hair look like silver, and _fuck, her eyes_.

Clarke gives a shy tilt of her head, gaze flitting down to her own hands where they’ve subconsciously moved to thread through Lexa’s shirt. Lexa gulps when the girl above her releases a shuddery sigh and warm breath hits her collarbones.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

Lexa blinks at the question. Clarke continues to fiddle with her shirt, her eyes never finding Lexa’s as they flit across her torso and bed sheets. 

“What? Oh – no, that’s okay. Is everything alright, Clarke?”

Clarke looks at her then, mouth opening before she clamps it shut again, trapping her lower lip between her teeth. Lexa watches the action with her breath stuck in her throat, and a twitch runs down her length where it’s trapped underneath Clarke’s ass. _Jesus, not now_.

Clarke tightens her hold around Lexa’s shirt for a second before her whole body deflates and she slumps forward until she’s almost nose-to-nose with Lexa. Her breath rushes in warm waves across Lexa’s lips, and the smell of minty toothpaste and the remnants of something sweet makes Lexa dizzy. Clarke brushes her nose along Lexa’s cheek for a second before pulling back to look at her.

“I just… I’m not entirely sure why I came here, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About earlier.”

Lexa’s chest tingles at that. She hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it either, the way Clarke’s lips felt soft and salty against her own, the way Clarke tugged ever so slightly on her lower lip…

“Oh.”

Clarke stares at her, gaze hooded and dark as her tongue pokes out to lick at her lips. Lexa isn’t sure how long they stay like that, but she’s completely unable to look away from Clarke’s eyes. They’re not their usual ocean blue in this light, but rather a deep, shimmering silver that stands in stark contrast to the dark fabric of her t-shirt. The same t-shirt that hangs loose on her frame and dips low enough that her collarbones are exposed to the slight chill of the room. Her gaze finally flits away from Clarke’s to follow the curve of said collarbones and down towards the collar of her t-shirt where she can just make out the beginnings of her cleavage. Another twitch runs down Lexa’s length, and with every passing second of loaded silence she’s more and more aware of just how tightly her cock is tucked against Clarke’s ass.

“Lexa…” 

A hand untangles itself from her shirt to tease at the hem, and then finally dips under to run across the warm skin of Lexa’s stomach. Her abdominal muscles twitch with the feathery touch, cold and sure fingers running in slow circles around her bellybutton. Lexa sucks in a shaky gulp of air and watches the movement, mouth dry and thighs trembling with effort to keep from flipping Clarke over and covering her with her own body. She swallows thickly once before looking at Clarke.

“Yes?”

Clarke leans down until their noses brush again, gaze locked on Lexa’s through her thick lashes, and Lexa trembles even harder.

“Kiss me.”

She surges forward so fast she almost knocks their foreheads together, but it’s all completely worth it when Clarke melts into her and sighs so heavily that Lexa feels like she’s drowning and Clarke is her air. It’s desperate and fast, the heavy drag of their lips smacking loudly in the quiet of the tiny bedroom, but Lexa doesn’t care because Clarke is warm and soft on top of her, clinging to her with all her strength.

She sits up until Clarke is straddling her lap, pale arms circling her shoulders and legs twining around her lower back. The covers are still hanging from Clarke’s shoulders, and Lexa tugs them further around them to shield Clarke in case Anya wakes up. Their lips never break contact, slotting together over and over with a quiet fervor, sucking and pulling and _fuck, she feels so fucking good_.

They both shudder when a tongue comes into play, and soon Lexa is licking relentlessly into Clarke’s mouth, the blonde whimpering quietly and grinding against her. Lexa breaks away and stifles her groan against Clarke’s sternum when the blonde rolls her hips and Lexa’s cock slots between her cheeks. Her hands grip Clarke’s hips tightly, a warning or an invitation – she’s not sure. She’s already growing rapidly, the warm firmness of Clarke’s ass sending jolts of arousal to her hips and lower stomach with every soft grind.

“Clarke…”

Clarke pulls back from their embrace with a gleam in her eye, lips swollen and glistening, and dips her hands down until they’re slowly teasing the hem of her shirt up and over her head. Lexa watches transfixed as milky skin is revealed inch by inch, and her jaw goes slack when she’s face to face with full, soft breasts. She barely has the mind to pull the covers further around them before Clarke slides a hand into the soft curls at the back of her neck and tugs her forward. 

“Please…”

Lexa doesn’t know how she got this fucking lucky, but she’s not about to waste the only opportunity she’ll probably ever have to touch and feel Clarke like this. She pushes the flashing warning signs of Finn’s name to the back of her mind.

She slides her hands up Clarke’s sides, running her nails along her ribs and licking her lips when Clarke shivers and gasps above her. One hand stays splayed there, fingers dipping into the creases between Clarke’s ribs, while the other moves to her front and underneath one swell, thumb barely brushing the underside of a nipple. Clarke whines lowly and arches forward, guiding the rosy pebble to Lexa’s mouth. 

She tastes just as good as she looks. There’s a hint of salt from the ocean, but mostly the warm sweetness of Clarke, and Lexa sighs and tugs Clarke closer to her the second she closes her lips around her nipple and sucks. Clarke’s fingers scratch her scalp in approval, hips rolling down harder when Lexa grazes her teeth around her and flicks her tongue across the tip. Her other hand moves to cup the other breast, fingers plucking and stroking at her nipple until they’re both puckered and sensitive.

“Fuck, Lexa…”

That breaks her from her daze somewhat, still aware that this is a cabin with doors as thin as paper, and the fact that her _sister_ is sleeping in the bed only feet away.

“You have to be quiet, Clarke.” 

“Sorry, I just… That feels so fucking good, Lex. Please…”

Lexa can’t hide her grin at that, and she tilts her head up to stifle Clarke’s groan with her mouth when she pinches her nipple and rolls it between her fingers. The answering jolt of Clarke’s hips has Lexa glad they’re already kissing, because she’s pretty sure _that_ moan would’ve woken up the whole cabin if Clarke hadn’t swallowed it.

When Lexa moves her hands down to the curve of her ass, Clarke seems to go into overdrive. She starts jogging her hips more firmly; upping her pace until the soft squeaking of the old bed fills the silence of the room. Lexa should really stop her – this is, after all, the opposite of being quite – but _fuck, she can feel Clarke through her underwear…_. She’s no longer pressed against Lexa’s crotch, but grinding firmly against her lower stomach, and she’s definitely wet. _Fuck_.

Clarke is licking into her mouth, panting and gasping as she gets closer, and Lexa can only slide her hands inside her panties and grasp at her ass, tugging her closer and encouraging the desperate snap of Clarke’s hips.

“Fu- oh, fuck.”

Clarke is at least present enough to keep her voice to a whisper, but Lexa can’t help but feel disappointed when she doesn’t get to hear Clarke come fully. She has a feeling it’d be a miraculous thing to witness. That being said, the sight of Clarke’s body locking up and then falling into violent tremors has Lexa gasping for air and biting down on her own wrist to keep from moaning. Clarke’s hips jerk against her, and then there’s a sluice of wetness seeping through her underwear, covering Lexa’s skin.

She feels the heavy throb of her heartbeat in the base of her cock long after Clarke comes, and she does her best to stifle her desperate whine when Clarke’s hips shift against her and the slick spot on her underwear brushes against the skin just above Lexa’s boxers. Clarke’s face is pressed tightly against Lexa’s neck, hot breath fanning over her collarbones as the blonde sucks in sharp gulps of air. A warm tongue pokes out to taste the sweat in the dip of Lexa’s throat, and Clarke trembles when Lexa’s hips roll up against her in response.

“Clarke,” Lexa whispers against the soft wisps of hair on Clarke’s cheek. “Clarke.”

The girl in her lap sighs and gives a last, slow lick against her throat before she pulls back to kiss Lexa. It’s deep and loaded with desire, Clarke’s tongue dragging heavily against her lower lip before dipping inside. Her groan is barely more than an expulsion of air, but it seeps between Lexa’s lips and ripples across her tongue like the waves lapping at the shore, and Lexa swallows every part of it greedily. 

Clarke’s hand ventures between them, dipping beneath the collar of Lexa’s shirt to palm at her breast. Hers are a lot smaller than Clarke’s, but the blonde seems to enjoy them all the same, judging from the shivery groan she emits when her fingers find her nipple already puckered. She plucks at it gently, sighing when Lexa moans, and before the brunette can react, her shirt is off and Clarke’s hand is back, joined by the other. She leans in to kiss Lexa again, this time more gently, before dipping one hand lower slowly.

Lexa feels like she’s about to explode. There’s no way she could have predicted this would happen, and she finds herself blinking rapidly to ensure she’s not dreaming. When Clarke lifts off her lap and scoots down to sit on her thighs she almost whines, but then fingers dip into her underwear and fish her out, and the only thought that goes through her head is _holy fuck, holy fuck, holy-_.

Clarke gasps, her head dropping to rest against Lexa’s sternum, and she visibly shakes when her fingers wrap fully around Lexa’s cock.

“Fuck…”

It’s practically a blur after that. Clarke scrambles up into her lap again and crashes their lips together, teeth tugging on Lexa’s lips and tongue relentless against Lexa’s. She doesn’t let go of the throbbing length between them, and Lexa’s pretty sure she sees stars when the blonde squeezes and strokes her from base to tip. Drops of precum slip from the tip and run over her fingers, aiding her strokes until the smooth glide has Lexa trembling with every stuttered breath. 

“Clarke,” she pants wetly, burying her face in the girl’s neck. “Clarke, _shit_.”

And then Clarke is shifting in her lap, and Lexa barely has time to register the sight of her flushed cunt as she tugs her underwear aside before Clarke sinks down on her.

And _holy. Fucking. Shit._.

Lexa has never been so glad her sister sleeps like a fucking log.

The groan is punched out of her so forcefully that she almost chokes on her own spit, the silken heat of Clarke’s cunt overwhelming to the point where she sees spots. She grinds her teeth together to keep the endless expletives from pouring out of her, but one look at the trembling girl in her arms proves it a pointless battle.

“Fucking shit,” she hisses, fingers digging creases into Clarke’s hips as the blonde pants sharply in her ear. Clarke clenches around her, fresh arousal seeping out between them, and they both shudder at the sensation of warm wetness sliding down their thighs. “Fucking shit fuck shit.”

“ _Jesus_ , you’re big…” Clarke whispers, her back arching when Lexa jerks and groans against her. She slings her arms around Lexa’s shoulders, tugging her flush against her, and then she lifts up slowly. She doesn’t let much of Lexa’s length slip out before she bears down again, hard, and all the air in Lexa’s lungs rushes out of her in a single second.

She can feel every movement of her cock inside Clarke; the way her swollen head drags again the spongy patch on her front wall, the way it seats just below the tight mouth of Clarke’s cervix when she bottoms out. 

Clarke dissolves into a thriving mess in her arms, open mouth pressed against her cheek as they begin rolling their hips together, barely retracting before colliding together again. Lexa can’t remember the last time she felt something so heavenly around her.

It doesn’t take them long before they’re both teetering on the edge, their movements turning sloppy with every hard thrust. Clarke has somehow managed to keep her moans to a minimum, and Lexa finds herself more than a little impressed, her own sounds of pleasure filtering into the quiet room through tightly pressed lips. A particularly strong pump of Lexa’s hips has the blonde stuttering and whining though, but before Lexa can warn her Clarke grabs one of her hands and fits three of her fingers in her mouth.

Lexa’s eyes roll to the back of her head as her hips stutter, Clarke’s mouth hot and wet as she sucks on the digits. The blonde’s answering whimper is, thankfully, mostly muffled, but the insistent creaking of the worn bed still has Lexa worried. As much as this is a fucking dream come true, she really doesn’t want anyone to wake up. She honestly has no idea how they’d explain this… predicament. Her cock is pounding with unreleased pressure, and Clarke’s wild fluttering around her tells her the blonde’s isn’t far behind, but being caught by Anya – or any of their other friends, for that matter – would definitely kill the mood. 

Clarke doesn’t seem to share the same concern as Lexa, though. She releases Lexa’s fingers with a wet smack and leans forward until her lips are brushing Lexa’s ear.

“I’m gonna cum.”

And then she pushes Lexa flat on her back and plants her hands firmly on her stomach, before pushing up until Lexa almost slips out of her. The cool air on her slick shaft sends a pulsing throb deep in Lexa’s hips, but then Clarke slams down on her in quick succession, three, four, five times before she freezes completely and screams silently to the ceiling. The clench of her cunt is so tight around her that Lexa can’t move an inch, but she doesn’t need to because the pressure in her cock finally bursts free, and she spills herself in violent spurts deep inside Clarke.

It takes them several minutes to gain their breaths, Clarke slumping heavily onto Lexa’s chest as the brunette stays seated inside her. A disbelieving laugh escapes her when the subtle shift of her hips pulls another weak gush of wetness from Clarke, and the blonde chuckles and swats at her clumsily before pulling back to grin at her.

“That was… Damn.”

“Yeah.” Lexa cringes slightly when Clarke shifts and her softening cock slips out. The sheets are sticky with their combined sweat and cum, but she doesn’t have the strength to even _think_ about getting up to get cleaned up. Instead she fumbles with the covers until they’re both snuggled underneath them, and her grin is tired and lopsided when Clarke slings a leg over her hips and buries her face in her neck. 

*** 

She wakes up to an empty bed and dried cum all over her crotch, and is once again thankful that her sister not only sleeps like a rock, but that she also never wakes up before noon. The nervous lump that forms in her stomach when she exits the bathroom and trudges towards the kitchen turns into one of dread when her mind finally catches up to her, and she remembers the tiny, insignificant fact that Clarke has a _boyfriend_. But when she turns the corner to find a certain blonde smiling at her from behind the rim of a steaming cup of coffee, the lump dwindles until the only thing left in her stomach is a pleasant flutter.

And then Clarke’s smile shifts into a smirk, and that pleasant flutter turns into something heavier, hotter, pooling low in her hips and stirring what she’ll later realize is a thirst she’ll have more than a little difficulty controlling.

 

*** 

They still have eight days left of their trip after that night, and no matter how hard Clarke tries to control herself, she can’t for the life of her keep her hands off Lexa.

She knows it’s a _really_ shitty thing to do, both to Finn and Lexa, but the brunette doesn’t seem to mind the attention, and Clarke knows for a fact that Lexa knows she has a boyfriend. _Maybe they can figure out a way to make this work?_ She’s never felt this way with anyone before, not even with Finn when they were in their ‘honeymoon phase’, and last night was some of the best sex she’s ever had… Just thinking about it has slick gathering in her underwear.

They end up fucking every chance they get. When their friends decide to go for a ride on the boat one morning they both come up with vague excuses to stay behind, and before Clarke knows it she’s half naked and spread out across the kitchen counter.

Lexa is tucked between her legs, lips wrapped around her clit and tongue flicking deliciously across the bundle of nerves as she builds Clarke up. They’re both in swimwear, not bothering to get changed when their friends left, and Clarke’s bikini bottoms are dangling from one ankle, damp from more than just swimming.

“Jesus, that’s- fuck, that feels amazing.”

Lexa hums appreciatively against her, the vibrations racing up and down Clarke’s spine. She’s steadily grinding against Lexa’s tongue, shivering desperately with every pass of the slick muscle. Her orgasm is building rapidly, the ball of heat in her stomach growing to a deep ache that settles in her pelvis.

Just as she’s about to come Lexa pulls away with an obscene smack of her lips, and Clarke almost flails with fury at the denied release. But then Lexa is tugging her swim shorts down her thighs, and her cock springs free to slap against her abdomen, and _fuck_.

A second later her legs are bent until her knees press against her shoulders, and then Lexa is pushing inside her with a throaty groan. She bottoms out within seconds, stretching Clarke in the most delicious way, before pulling back and slamming into her again, full force. Clarke screams so loud she’s sure the neighbor three miles down heard.

The kitchen counter is low enough that Lexa is able to lower her body over Clarke’s, pressing the blonde’s legs tighter against her own body as the brunette fucks into her roughly. With every pump of her hips the blunt tip of Lexa’s cock presses firmly against that wonderfully sensitive spot inside her, and Clarke has to hold her breath to keep from coming right away. The sharp slap of skin on skin is like white noise in her ears.

Unable to resist the temptation, she tilts her head down to look at the point where their hips meet, only to have her eyes roll to the back of her head at the sight. Her cunt is flushed a deep pink, her lips spread wide and glistening, but it’s the sight of Lexa’s firm length that has her gasping for air. There’s a distinct sheen covering all the way down to the stretched skin around her base, and every time Lexa pulls out Clarke catches a glimpse of a pulsing vein. It has her mouth watering and her walls clenching hard. 

“You’re so fucking tight.” Lexa groans, leaning further over Clarke to change the angle of her thrusts, and that’s the last thing Clarke remembers before she’s thrown over the edge so violently she loses her sight for several seconds. Her back arches almost painfully, her head thumping against the counter as she screams toward the ceiling, and then there’s a stuttered, drawn out moan above her before hot spurts line her walls. She clenches and clenches, milking Lexa as their orgasms ripple through them.

The heady rush finally tapers down and they both slump against the counter heavily, bodies twitching and breaths mingling as they try to gather their senses. Lexa pushes up after a couple of minutes, pushing strands of sweaty hair off her forehead, and Clarke watches the way clouded green eyes slowly refocus, the way the muscles of her jaw clench ever so slightly when Lexa swallows.

_Jesus Christ, she’s pretty…_

_Jesus Christ, what are you doing, Clarke?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finally gathers up the courage to tell Lexa about her feelings.  
> A little angst, a little fluff and some damn fine reunion smut ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to follow me on tumblr: aigoufa.tumblr.com
> 
> This is, yet again, the result of a long night of obsessive writing (at least partly), and holy shit is it a huge chapter.  
> Lots of thanks to volativevision for the feedback and the pep talks, without them I wouldn't have been posting this chapter for at least another month. Go check out theirs and EverADream's fic "the composition of me (through your eyes)" for more fluffy and smutty clexa, gp lexa included!
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy the return of the smut. Next chapter will more than likely continue where this chapter left off, so fingers crossed or, you know, not.
> 
> Your comments are the only thing that keeps me going with this stuff, so please be kind, and ramble as much as you fucking want, because those are honestly the best comments ever.
> 
> And the last of a shitload of notes; my schoolwork is beating the living crap out of me, so if it takes me a while to update after this chapter it's because I'm buried deep in the confusing and frustrating world of phonetic transcriptions (if you don't know what that is, don't worry, I don't either).
> 
> Have a good one!

”Get up.”

The TV-remote hits her on the side of the face with a smack; the rubber buttons the only things softening the impact to her cheekbone. She’s more startled than hurt, but Lexa still hurls herself upright, irritation coiling in her chest.

“What the _fuck_ , Anya?!”

Her sister merely scowls at her from behind the couch, arms crossed tightly across her chest and foot tapping impatiently on the worn out hardwood floor. There are bags under her eyes, dark and prominent, and Lexa feels a pang of guilt cloud her irritation as her sister heaves a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve been holed up on this couch all weekend. You smell like a dirty raccoon – actually, you look like one, too – and you need to go take a shower. _Right now_.”

“No.” Lexa scowls at her, tugging the blanket further around her shoulders and burrowing back into the safety of the old leather couch. “Leave me alone.”

“Jesus fuck – you know what? No. I’m not doing this with you, Lexa.” Firm hands rip the blanket off her and toss it across the room, before Anya rounds the couch to stand in front of her. “It’s been over a month, Lex. You need to start living again.”

Lexa only turns her back to her, because how can she? How can she ‘start living again’ when literally everything in her life reminds her of _her_? When she’ll go to school and Clarke’s there in more than half of her classes, or she’s there at lunch, or she’s there at the football games, and Lexa’s left struggling to even breathe. How can she, when, even in her sleep, she can’t escape her?

She knows she’s being melodramatic as fuck, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

Just as she thinks Anya has given up, a pair of arms snakes its way beneath her torso and legs and hoists her up. The initial shock has her unmoving in Anya’s hold for several seconds, but before her sister even has the time to carry her to the hallway, Lexa’s fighting with her whole body. She jerks, and wiggles, and grunts, and punches - _shit, did she just headbutt Anya_?

Her sister doesn’t let the blow get to her; she only growls and tightens her arms further around Lexa and drags her all the way to the bathroom. Kicking the door open unceremoniously, she drops Lexa right on her ass before pulling the door closed behind her. A sharp gasp is ripped from Lexa when she looks up to find Anya bleeding from the nose.

“Shit, An, I’m s-“

“It’s fine. Now get your rank ass in that tub and wash up, or I will strip you myself.”

Lexa doesn’t argue further.

After she’s cleaned up Anya informs her that she’s managed to borrow Lexa’s previous foster brother Aden for lunch at their favorite café downtown. It’s enough to ease the lump in Lexa’s stomach for the rest of the day, but only barely.

 

***

Raven and Octavia don’t know how to talk to her lately, and Clarke doesn’t blame them. It’s not like she’s been able to pay attention to anything they say when she’s constantly checking to see if Lexa’s walked into the room. She’s gotten exactly two sightings of the girl since her breakup with Finn four days ago, and both times Raven ended up having to flick her across the cheek or pour water over her head to get her attention. Clarke stopped wearing white tops after that.

The first time she saw Lexa was during history class, and that was only because their teacher decided that Lexa should switch seats with Atom because ‘if he wasn’t going to pay attention in class he might as well sit in the back’. Clarke got to stare at chestnut hair for the rest of their period, and her own hair was matted for the rest of the day from Raven’s abusive water bottle usage.

The second time was during lunch period, when Lexa passed her table and Clarke caught a whiff of her perfume. Her head whipped up just in time to catch green eyes glancing her way before Lexa swung her letterman bag over her shoulder and strode out of the cafeteria with her fists clenched tight against her thighs and her head held high. Clarke took deep breaths for nearly ten minutes, trying to catch any last remnants of that sweet smell.

She’s been trying to gather up the courage to talk to her. No, really, she has. It’s just… How do you go about telling someone you’re in love with them? She doesn’t even know if Lexa feels the same way. What if she embarrasses herself? What if Lexa doesn’t want her? Clarke’s not sure she could handle that rejection. And yet, she’s not sure she can handle another day without telling her.

“Yo, Clarkey, are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Octavia slaps a hand on the table, rattling Clarke’s tray and almost tipping over her yogurt cup. “I swear, if you’re having another sexy daydream about Lexa, I’ll go talk to her myself.”

Clarke splutters at that, a furious blush spreading across her cheeks. “Wha-what? I don’t know what you’re- what?”

Octavia only sighs and rolls her eyes at her, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “You honestly think we haven’t noticed, Clarke?”

“Noticed what?”

“Wow, Griff, I didn’t know you thought we were that dumb.” Raven scoffs, hiking her leg up to stretch it across the seat beside her. She rubs a thumb along the muscles of her thigh, wincing slightly as she digs into the sore skin beneath the straps of the brace. “It’s not like you’re subtle about it.”

Clarke’s brows furrow with confusion. “About what?”

“How you’re totally in love with Lexipoo, and that you want to have her babies and what not.” Raven grins. Octavia jabs her in the ribs, but she too is grinning, and they both stare intently at Clarke as the blonde flushes even further.

“What? I’m not – why would you –“ When both girls only quirk their brows at her she grimaces and slumps down in her seat. “How did you know?”

“Well, first of all, Anya totally heard you guys doing it when we were at Miller’s cabin, and she told Raven.” Octavia quips, matter-of-factly. Clarke gapes at them both, shock and embarrassment rushing through her. “Second of all, you don’t think we’ve noticed you and the Commander making heart eyes at each other for the past five months? It’s like we don’t even exist when she’s around!”

“Hey, that’s not true! I’m not making heart eyes!” Clarke objects, even though she knows she’s already lost this discussion before it even started.

“Relax, Griff, we’re not judging you.” Raven says gently, nudging her foot under the table with her good leg. “We’re only making an observation. You and Lexa totally have the hots for each other – and don’t you dare tell me I’m wrong.” She points when Clarke makes to object again.

Jesus, has she really been that obvious this whole time? God, she feels like a complete idiot, everyone must think she’s a total loser pining over Le- _wait_.

“What do you mean Lexa’s been making heart eyes?”

“Really, Clarke?” Octavia scoffs. “Like you haven’t seen the way she looks at you.”

Clarke’s chest tingles at that. She _has_ seen the way Lexa looks at her. It’s practically the only thing on her mind these days. When Lexa looks at her she makes Clarke feel like she’s the only thing that matters in the entire world. Like there could be a thousand people crying out for Lexa’s attention, and Clarke would still be her sole focus. Clarke gets dizzy just by thinking about it.

But she thought that was just how Lexa was. Caring, sweet, attentive to other people’s wants and needs. Sure, there was a spark of something else, something more whenever their gazes met from across the room, but Clarke hasn’t dared give real thought to what that something might be.

“You should tell her, Clarke.” Octavia’s hand folds over her own and gives a gentle squeeze. “She won’t turn you down.”

Clarke swallows thickly. “How do you know that?”

Steely blue eyes twinkle with amusement. “Because she basically gets a heart boner whenever you even walk into the room.”

“Don’t forget the other boner.” Raven winks obnoxiously, cackling when both girls beside her choke on their drinks. Clarke has to slam her hand down on the table when her orange juice goes down the wrong pipe. She coughs and splutters and turns all shades of red when several other students turn their heads toward the commotion.

“ _Jesus_ , guys, keep your voices down, will you?”

“We calls ‘em as we sees ‘em, Clarkey.” Octavia slaps the hand Raven offers to her and smirks deviously when Clarke only scowls at them and wipes her mouth with her sleeve. “Oooh, speaking of which, your object of gross, lovey-dovey affection, just walked into the room.”

Clarke whips around before she even has the mind to comment on her friend’s choice of words, and then her heart stops dead in its track.

Lexa is standing at the entrance of the cafeteria wearing ripped baggy jeans, an oversized, moss green flannel shirt and a loose beanie, her hair tumbling down over her chest in wild curls, and Clarke just wants to twine her fingers in them and feel the softness for days. _Jesus_ … She looks like she’s just been outside from what Clarke can judge, her cheeks and the tip of her nose red, and her soft pouty lips are parted and – oh shit, she’s looking right at Clarke.

A moment passes where Lexa looks like a deer in the headlights of a semi, and Clarke feels her pulse all the way down to her toes.

And then, just as swiftly as Lexa entered the cafeteria, she’s turned around and exited again. Clarke is on her feet before Octavia and Raven even have the chance to usher her on. She vaguely registers the ‘Go Griff, get some!’ before she’s bursting through the double doors into the hallway and calling out for Lexa.

The brunette has already made it almost all the way down the hallway, and Clarke’s frankly impressed with her speed, but then Lexa stops dead in her tracks, and Clarke’s not sure if this was a good idea after all. Nonetheless, she doesn’t stop until she’s made it almost all the way to her, halting just ten feet from where Lexa still has her back to her. Clarke’s already panting at this point, not completely sure if it was from the speed walking or the suspicion that she might’ve just dug her own grave.

“Uhm, hey.” Lexa’s shoulders stiffen visibly when Clarke speaks, and the blonde clears her throat awkwardly before trying again. “Can we talk for a sec?”

There’s a deafening silence that stretches on for what feels like hours before Lexa slowly turns toward her. Clarke has to force her jaw from dropping to the floor when she’s finally faced with those green eyes up close again. Even though Lexa’s not technically looking at her, but rather at the floor between them.

“What is it, Clarke?”

And oh god, that voice is like a fucking angel choir in her ears. Clarke suddenly can’t understand how she managed to go so long without hearing it.

She swallows thickly once, then twice because she still can’t seem to make her mouth work when Lexa’s practically within touching distance.

“Uh, I, I was wondering if we could maybe go somewhere. There’s something I have to tell you.” There’s an uncomfortable lilt to her voice, and she cringes when it breaks on the last word. “I know you probably have somewhere to be right now, I just-“

“You’re right, I do, actually. Can it wait until later?” Lexa says, her slender fingers digging into her upper arms as she tightens them across her chest. She still hasn’t looked up at Clarke. Clarke desperately wishes she would.

“Oh. Yeah, of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your time...” Clarke rushes, a mixture of disappointment and relief sinking deep in her stomach. “You should – yeah, sorry -“

“It’s fine, Clarke, don’t worry about it.” Lexa stops her, hands dropping from her chest to tug at the strap of her bag. “I should uh- I should go.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Clarke watches Lexa fiddle with her bag for a moment, her weight swaying from her toes to her heels as she hesitates. Several seconds pass by in complete silence as they stand there, the unspoken words thick and suffocating between them.  
Lexa tips her weight back onto her toes again, a shaky breath leaving her before she finally looks up at Clarke. The intensity of her gaze runs through Clarke like a jolt of electricity, and she merely gapes at Lexa as green eyes flicker to her lips before the brunette whips around and rushes down the hallway and around the corner.

Clarke doesn’t realize she’s been holding her breath until the edges of her vision blur, and she clenches her fists to stop the tingling in her fingertips.

 _Fuck it, it’s now or never_.

And then she’s sprinting.

 

***

Lexa pushes through the throng of freshmen in the hallway, cursing under her breath as she tries to calm her heart. Her hands are clammy and cold where they grip the leather strap of her bag, and the collar of her shirt feels way too tight around her neck. There’s a lump in her stomach that’s been there since she ran out of Clarke’s house over a month ago, and it only grows bigger when she closes her eyes, because images of Clarke keep flashing in her mind. She can already feel the panic attack coming; she’s got maybe a minute or two to get out into the fresh air before she makes a complete fool out of herself in front of everyone.

“Hey, watch it!” A boy with grimy hair shouts after her as she knocks into his shoulder and hurries further into the crowd. The doors to the courtyard are only twenty yards away, but the edges of her vision are already darkening, and her breaths are coming out in sharp pants as she crosses her arms tightly across her chest, and _fuck_ , she shouldn’t have stopped when Clarke called out for her. Why did she do that?

She’s three feet away from the doors when she hears her name.

She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Lexa! Wait, Lexa!”

A clamor of annoyance and the sharp squeaking of running footsteps sound behind her, but Lexa’s panicking too hard to turn around. Fuck, what does she do? She can’t face Clarke right now, not when she’s about to have a full-blown panic attack just because she almost gave into the urge to kiss Clarke right there in the hallway. She barely hung onto her self-control, but it’s slipping rapidly through her fingers. Her breathing quickens.

“Lexa, wait – jesus, will you move, please!” Clarke is closing in on her fast, her voice growing louder with it each rushed word, and Lexa feels an involuntary shiver run down her neck from the familiar rasp in it. She sucks in several sharp gulps of air and steels herself before turning around to face her.

For a second she can’t spot her, but then Clarke breaks through the crowd with a shove and stumbles ungracefully to a halt in front of Lexa. Her eyes are wide and she’s panting from exertion, but Lexa can’t focus on anything but the rosy tint that spreads across Clarke’s cheeks. Her breathing doesn’t slow down, and neither does Clarke’s.

“Clarke…” She’s barely able to push the name past her lips, the tightening of her chest growing with every second the blonde looks at her. “I can’t- I can’t do this right now.”

“Lexa, please just listen to me for a sec,” Clarke says, one hand coming up to rub her heaving chest. “I really need to tell y-“

“I have to go, Clarke,” Lexa’s dizzy now, her fingers turning more numb with every breath she forces into her lungs. She stumbles shakily backwards until her back hits the doors, and she fumbles for the doorknob. “I have to-“

“I’m in love with you!”

 

***

 

The whole hallway goes silent just as soon as the words leave her mouth, but Clarke can’t bring herself to care. She only has eyes for Lexa.

Lexa, who is standing stock still, halfway through the doors to the courtyard, eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock.

Lexa, who is clutching her bag like a lifeline, knuckles turning white and lungs not expanding as she holds her breath.

Lexa, who still hasn’t said a single word as the seconds pass and Clarke stares at her.

Dread settles deep in Clarke’s bones.

“I… I know this is a really shitty way to tell you, and you probably don’t even feel the same way, and I don’t expect you to, because I’ve been acting like a total jerk, but I just need you to know that I’m in love with you, and I broke up with Finn because of that, and I can’t stop thinking about you, and fuck-“ Clarke rambles like a maniac, cold sweat breaking across her neck as she drops her gaze to the floor in embarrassment and shame. “You don’t have to say anything. I completely understand if you still don’t want to talk to me. I just… I just needed you to know that, I guess.”

With that she chances a last glance at Lexa, still wide eyed and gaping at her, before she ducks her head and turns to walk away.

 

***

Lexa can’t move. It’s like her body has decided to short-circuit and all she’s able to do is stare shocked at Clarke as she rambles. There’s a blur of words she’s can’t quite catch, but her mind hooks onto those five words she never thought she would hear.

‘ _I’m in love with you’._

What the fuck is happening?

A million thoughts swirl in her head, knocking back and forth in a jumble, and she can’t for the life of her seem to grasp onto any resemblance to an explanation to how this could be real. Clarke is – but… _How_?

She realizes Clarke has stopped talking when the only thing she can hear is the blood rushing through her ears, her pulse thumping wildly in her chest. The blonde is watching her intently, embarrassment and tentative hope etched into her whole body as she fiddles with her fingers. There’s a deep flush to her cheeks, even as she keeps her shoulders squared and head held high. Her eyes search Lexa’s face intently, and Lexa feels her body flush with warmth slowly, spreading from her chest and out through her limbs as the reality of the situation finally begins to settle. _Clarke is in love with her_ …

But then Clarke’s face falls, and her head dips in shame as she sucks in a shaky breath. Lexa realizes too late what’s going on when the blonde turns slowly and begins walking back the way she came.

_Oh, no._

“Clarke, wait!”

Clarke whirls around the second her name falls from Lexa’s lips. She looks white as a sheet, but her eyes are as deep a blue as the ocean, and they shimmer with unshed tears as she licks her lips slowly.

“You broke up with Finn?”

Clarke nods. Keeps steady eye contact with Lexa as she tucks her hands into her back pockets. Shifts onto the balls of her feet and opens her mouth to say something more when Lexa closes the distance between them.

And then Lexa kisses her.

 

***

 

The soft press of Lexa’s lips against hers has all the breath in Clarke’s lungs rushing out of her in a split second. There’s a stretch of time where she’s frozen in place; the sensation of Lexa’s slim fingers cradling her jaw and her warm breath ghosting over Clarke’s face is so intense she barely keeps from crumbling to the ground. But then Lexa whines softly against her mouth, and Clarke’s lips respond before she’s even grasped the entirety of it all.

 _Holy fuck, this is actually happening_.

Her hands fly up to grasp Lexa’s hips, and she presses up to her so close they almost stumble and fall. Their hips knock together, and Lexa’s fingers slide further into her hair, tugging impatiently. Clarke can’t be bothered with the slight difference in height, only inching up on her toes to slot their mouths together over and over again.

This feels like their first _real_ kiss, and she’s not about to let it go to waste. Her hands slide around Lexa’s hips and under her shirt to grasp at the bare skin underneath, and a shivery moan slips into the space between them as she finally feels the warmth of Lexa’s body again.

Lexa pushes her hips against Clarke’s and slips her tongue into her mouth when the blonde gasps against her. The first brush of their tongues has Clarke groaning and digging her nails into the soft skin of Lexa’s lower back, because _jesus fuck, she’s missed the way Lexa tastes_.

They break apart to breathe, only to be met with deafening cheers behind them. Clarke watches as Lexa’s cheeks flush a deep crimson, and instinctively inches even closer to her, shielding her from the eyes of their onlookers. Their foreheads knock softly together, breaths mingling and gazes finding each other, and Clarke feels an answering blush spread down her neck and across her chest. Lexa’s eyes are so soft as she looks at her, shimmering with unshed tears as her lips quirk up in a shy smile.

“Hi.” Clarke whispers, bringing a hand up to brush soft curls behind Lexa’s ear. The brunette leans into the touch, sighing shakily.

“Hi.” Her voice quivers between them, a single tear escaping down her cheek. Clarke tilts her head up to kiss it away.

Just as she is about to lean in for another taste of Lexa’s lips, the bell rings and, just like that, their bubble bursts. The hallway empties in a matter of seconds, and Clarke sighs and pulls back ever so slightly, grinning when Lexa grumbles and tightens her hold on her.

“I _really_ don’t want to go, but I have a super important test,” she kisses Lexa’s pout away. “Pike will kill me if I miss it.”

The brunette chases her lips, pushing against Clarke when the blonde immediately opens her mouth to her. She shivers and groans when Lexa traps her bottom lip between her teeth and tugs, but she manages to pull away with a gasp just as slender fingers slide down her back and dip just below the waistband of her jeans. Lexa pouts and dips down to nose at her jaw, sighing heavily when Clarke chuckles and pushes gently at her shoulders.

“I mean it, I really have to go,” Clarke says, cupping Lexa’s cheek fondly. “But can I… Can I see you later?”

Lexa looks almost dumbfounded by the question, raising her brow in amusement and smirking when Clarke blushes.

“Yes, I’d like that.” She murmurs. “Very much.”

Clarke heaves a sigh of relief, even as she stands tucked tightly in Lexa’s arms, and reaches up to peck the girl’s lips one last time before taking a few steps back.

“After class? I have that Biology test and then Chemistry, but after that I’m free.”

“I’ve got practice until five,” Lexa says remorsefully. “But I can text you when I’m done?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Clarke grins, excitement tingling in her chest. “I really have to go, though.”

Lexa’s chuckle is fond, deep, and Clarke’s head swims with it.

“Go. I’ll text you.” With a last squeeze of their fingers, Clarke turns and practically skips down the hall. She’s so fucking late, but oh _god_ was it worth it.

 

***

Lexa feels like she’s floating on a cloud. She hasn’t been able to pay attention to a single thing Coach Indra says, the only thing playing on repeat in her mind being Clarke and her soft hair and her even softer lips and her smell and her _everything_. It’s only been three hours since she saw her, _since she kissed her and held her_ , but she’s already approximately three seconds away from ripping her hair out with how slowly this day is going. She feels like she can’t stand another moment without seeing Clarke.

“Woods!” 

The unmistakable irritation in Coach Indra’s voice has Lexa’s shoulders straightening before she even manages to pull herself out of her daze. She’s supposed to be doing pushups, but instead her body seems to have resided to simply flop down on the ground, the sensation of Clarke’s body pressed against hers still tingling across her skin. She’s not even close to as sweaty as she should be by this point in their practice, and she looks up at the looming figure above her with a sheepish tilt to her lips.

“Sorry Coach, I’m a little out of it today…”

“Well, you need to find your way back in it again, Woods,” Indra tuts, raising a stern brow at her, “We have a big game coming up next week, and I need my star player focused. What’s on your mind that has you so out of it?”

Lexa squares her shoulders, even as a blush warms her cheeks.

“Nothing Coach. I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”

Indra nods stoically, signaling for Lexa to resume her exercises, but a miniscule quirk of her lips has the football player gulping nervously as she begins another rep of pushups.

_She couldn’t possibly know Lexa had been thinking about Clarke, right? No. Could she?_

 

***

 

As soon as she’s in the locker room she fumbles through her bag until she retrieves her phone. There are a couple of messages from Anya, but her eyes zero in on the three unread messages from Clarke, all from the last half hour.

 

_**[Clarke: 4:34pm]** _

_**So I was thinking, this has all been pretty… messy. And I really don’t want to fuck this up, because you’re really fucking important to me, so I was wondering if I could maybe take you on an official date? I know it’s probably a little weird since we’ve known each other for almost six months already, but I really want to treat you right and, idk, my mom is out of town so I was thinking maybe dinner and a movie at my place? Besides, I think we should probably talk about… this, whatever this is.** _

_**[Clarke: 4:35pm]** _

_**I totally get it if you don’t want to, we don’t have to do anything special if that’s what you’d like! Just let me know what you want, I’m fine with whatever!** _

_**[Clarke:4:36pm]** _

_**Aaaand I’m rambling. Sorry, I’m just really excited to see you. And now I sound like a total dork. Shut up, Clarke. Anyways, text me when you’re done with practice? xx** _

Lexa can’t stop the grin from splitting her cheeks. Her heart flutters like crazy as she types out her response.

_**[Lexa: 5:03pm]** _

_**I’d like that, Clarke. I just got off practice, when do you want me to come over? Should I bring anything? And don’t worry, I think it’s cute when you ramble. Can’t wait to see you, too.** _

She puts her phone back in her bag and practically flings her workout gear off before rushing into the showers. Scrubbing herself down until her skin is raw, she towel dries her hair as best as she can with one hand, while tugging her jeans and shirt on with the other. Her workout bag is thrown over one shoulder as she pulls out her phone and heads for the parking lot.

Clarke’s response is short, precise.

_**[Clarke:5:06]** _

_**The sooner, the better. Can’t wait xx** _

***

An hour and a half later, after a minor (major) freakout over her outfit and makeup, and a desperate five minute attempt at drying her sweaty palms on her jeans, Lexa exits her car and shuffles nervously up Clarke’s driveway. The drive over sobered her up somewhat, with the realization sinking in that they will definitely have to talk about everything that has transpired over the past months.

As much as Lexa just wants to enjoy their first official date, she knows she has questions for Clarke she can’t leave unanswered, and Clarke probably does too. She’s _almost_ a hundred percent sure that Clarke was telling the truth when she said she was in love with her, but the fact that Finn more than likely thought the same has her gut churning heavily. 

Finn trusted Clarke, and Clarke cheated on him with _her_. And while Lexa is ecstatic that Clarke wants her, Finn didn’t deserve to be treated like that, and Lexa just needs to know that Clarke understands what she did. Needs to soothe that tiny part deep inside of her that is scared Clarke might do the same to her.

Before she knows it she’s knocking on the front door, and barely three seconds later Clarke flings the door open with a grin that quickly turns into an embarrassed blush at her apparent lack of chill.

“Hi.”

Lexa blushes right back, convinced her grin is more than a little lopsided and dopey. She might be nervous for their talk, but seeing Clarke still has butterflies fluttering wildly in her belly. 

Clarke is wearing a yellow summer dress, even though it’s late October, and she looks so beautiful Lexa can’t think straight.

“Hello Clarke.”

The blonde lets her eyes wander Lexa’s frame, pupils dilating slowly as her gaze sweeps up long legs and over wide shoulders. For a second it feels so much like the last time Lexa stood in this doorway with Clarke ogling her (not the _last_ time. Lexa has quietly suppressed that memory to the far reaches of her mind.), that she feels herself twitch in her pants. She coughs awkwardly, and smirks when Clarke flushes deeply and averts her eyes.

“Do you… I mean, do you want to come in?”

The rasp in Clarke’s voice is even more prominent when she’s embarrassed. Lexa just wants to press up against her and feel it rumble against her ear, her fingertips, her lips.

Instead, she nods and follows after Clarke when the blonde opens the door more widely. Once inside she shuffles awkwardly on the spot, fidgeting with the sleeves of her shirt. Clarke is leaning against the hallway closet, one slender ankle hooked over the other, bottom lip trapped between worrying teeth. Lexa watches the action with rapt attention, cheeks flushing when Clarke’s tongue runs slowly over the plush lip.

Clarke clears her throat, and Lexa’s eyes snap up to hers.

“Can I hug you?”

It’s said with such tentativeness that Lexa thinks Clarke is afraid she will be spooked and scurry away if the blonde even breathes wrong, and she chuckles warmly at the girl.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’d like that.” Lexa murmurs.

It starts slow. Lexa steps closer to her as Clarke unhooks her ankles. Clarke pushes herself off the closet door with unhurried movements, reaching up to push her hair away from her face. Lexa takes another step, closing the distance between them until the points of their feet are touching. Reaches out to run her palms up Clarke’s arms and around her shoulders. Pulls in a deep breath when Clarke’s hands find her hips, tugging her gently against her and sliding her arms around her waist. Sighs when Clarke’s face nuzzles into her neck. Buries her nose in soft blonde hair and can’t resist the urge to plant a tiny kiss against her crown.

They sway on the spot for several minutes. Neither of them in a hurry to let go. Lexa’s fingers find their way into the wisps of hair on Clarke’s neck, scratching gently against her scalp. Clarke hums and buries further into her, wraps her arms tighter around her.

“I missed you.”

It’s a quiet admission, muffled against the collar of her shirt. Lexa feels the brush of lips, feels the answering flush on her skin. She hugs Clarke closer, nods and tilts her head down to brush her lips against the shell of Clarke’s ear.

“Me too.”

*** 

When they finally pull apart, Clarke’s nerves have calmed tremendously. A fond smile finds its way onto her face when Lexa doesn’t let go over her hand, instead slipping her fingers between Clarke’s and squeezing them gently.

“So… I made lasagna.” Clarke says, smirking when Lexa moans in excitement. Her body flushing with the sound. “I was thinking we could talk while we eat… Is that okay with you?”

Lexa nods and drops her gaze to her feet, swallowing nervously. Stumbles a little when Clarke gently tugs her towards the kitchen.

She pulls out a chair for Lexa, smiling when the brunette gasps as she sees the dining area decked out in soft candle light. Feels her pulse thumb wildly in her chest at the way the light dances across Lexa’s face.

“Clarke, this is beautiful.” Lexa says, eyes wide and cheeks tinted pink when she turns to look at Clarke. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I wanted to.” She assures, laying a gentle hand on Lexa’s shoulder. “You deserve to be treated right.”

Lexa ducks her head at that, tugs her lip between her teeth. Smiles bashfully when Clarke squeezes her shoulder and moves to sit across from her.

Everything is decked out between them; the lasagna steaming in its dish, a bowl of salad to the side, a bottle of red wine uncorked and airing out. Clarke reaches for that first, pours a glass for Lexa and then for herself. She suddenly feels desperate for some liquid courage.

When their plates are filled, Clarke has had a healthy sip of her wine, and Lexa’s appreciative moan at the first taste has subsided, Clarke finally clears her throat and looks up at the girl across from her.

“Before I say anything else, I want to apologize.” At the confused look on Lexa’s face, Clarke folds her hands in her lap and swallows thickly. “I’ve been a douche these past few months, and I want you to know that I feel awful. It’s… It’s been one of the most confusing times in my life. I never thought I’d meet someone like you, and I didn’t handle it well _at all_. I’m sorry.”

Lexa chews her food slowly, looking somewhere at the table between them, deep in thought. She sets her fork down and sips her wine, and sweat sprouts at the base of Clarke’s spine. When several minutes pass in silence, Clarke grows nervous, and she shifts in her seat as Lexa stays perfectly still, wine glass perched against her lips.

“Lexa?”

At the sound of her name the brunette seems to snap out of her thoughts. The look she gives Clarke is a mixture of relief and worry. Clarke wets her dry mouth with another anxious sip of wine.

“Thank you, Clarke.” Lexa starts, voice low and thoughtful. She takes another bite of her lasagna, chewing slowly before setting her fork down again. “I’m sorry, too. For ignoring you these past weeks. I didn’t… I didn’t know how to approach you.”

Clarke nods at that, because she understands completely.

“To be honest I felt... really confused,” Lexa continues, hand dropping to fiddle with the tablecloth. “I mean, we were… There was something _there_ between us, and it felt really good, but at the same time I felt like crap because-”

Lexa snaps her mouth shut and sighs, avoiding Clarke’s eyes.

“You can tell me, Lexa.” Clarke assures, leaning forward on her elbows to lay a gentle hand over Lexa’s. “Please?”

Lexa eyes her, worry clear across her face. Clarke swallows and goes to take another sip of wine, only to find her glass is empty. Lexa looks more than a little grateful when Clarke refills both their glasses.

“I felt like crap because you kept going back to him.”

 _Oh. Shit._

Guilt slams against her chest like an anvil has been dropped on it. All these months, and she’s never even thought of how Lexa might feel about her and Finn. To be honest, she barely even spared Finn a thought that whole time because she was too wrapped up in Lexa. _Shit…_

What if Lexa can’t trust her again? After all, Clarke is a cheater. Who’s to say she won’t do it to Lexa too?

Tears are welling in Clarke’s eyes, and one slides down the ball of her cheek before she has the chance to stop it. And Lexa, sweet Lexa, thinks it’s her fault and her face falls so fast Clarke practically tumbles out of her chair to get to her.

“Lexa,” she breathes, falling to her knees beside her chair. Lexa reaches out for her instinctively, hands clasping her elbows when Clarke clutches her collar tightly. She looks confused and weary. “Fuck, Lexa, I’m _so_ sorry.”

The sob gets stuck in her throat, thick and constricting as she tugs until Lexa’s forehead is against hers.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that, I-” another sob pushes up to press against the first one, and Clarke heaves in a shuddering breath when Lexa’s thumb brushes against her arm in a soothing motion. “I was selfish and dumb. You were so… Fuck, you were everything I could think about, and I couldn’t even see that I was hurting you. I’m so sorry.”

Lexa’s eyes shimmer with their own unshed tears when she nudges for Clarke to open hers and look at her. Clarke runs her thumbs over Lexa’s sharp cheekbones on instinct, aching to soothe the hurt in those beautiful eyes.

“I forgive you.” Lexa whispers, leaning into the touch. “I forgive you, Clarke.”

The sobs finally break free, wrenching out of her chest so forcefully that Lexa blinks with surprised concern. Before Clarke knows it, Lexa has tugged her up into her lap and cradled her in her arms. She rocks her back and forth, gently shushing her as Clarke trembles and clings to her. Clarke is entirely unconvinced she deserves this.

When she’s finally able to breathe somewhat properly, she pulls back to cradle Lexa’s face.

“Lexa.” More tears trickle down her cheeks, only stopped in their tracks by the soft press of Lexa’s lips. “I won’t ever cheat on you. I- fuck, I can’t even stand the thought. You don’t deserve that. And neither did Finn. I’m so sorry.”

The words feel wrong, lacking, because there’s nothing she can say to describe to Lexa how utterly heart wrenching it is to realize you’ve hurt the person you care about most in the entire world. How ashamed she is of her actions. How completely devastated she feels. 

Lexa breathes a sigh against her lips. Clarke thinks it almost sounds like relief.

“I know. I forgive you.” Lexa repeats, voice soft and warm. Clarke leans into the vibrations, lets them rumble across her skin and settle in her own chest.

“I’m so in love with you.” She whispers. Promises.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Lexa murmurs against the crown of her head.

 

*** 

 

Lexa holds Clarke for almost an hour. Rocks her and kisses the top of her head and hums lowly as their dinner turns cold and Clarke’s trembling sobs turn to weak whimpers.

When her legs begin to cramp from the soft weight on top of her, she gently nudges Clarke to stand and immediately wraps her arms around her again. Clarke burrows into her chest, fingers tangling in her shirt and not loosening their grip for a second while Lexa leads them up to Clarke’s room. It’s a clumsy affair, but Lexa finally manages to pry Clarke’s dress off and help her put on a soft sleep shirt before she tucks her into bed. Clarke looks so beautiful in the soft light of the sunset that slips through the curtains that Lexa feels her chest constrict.

“Stay with me tonight?” Clarke whispers, reaching out to clasp her hand in her own. Lexa doesn’t even hesitate to nod. 

She strips down to her underwear and chuckles when a weak grumble of objection sounds from the bed as she tugs on one of Clarke’s shirts. Sliding under the covers, she’s instantly met with Clarke’s warm backside as she shuffles backwards into Lexa’s arms. She drapes herself completely around Clarke, curling her arm across her stomach and burying her nose into the nape of her neck. She smells like sunshine and cotton. Lexa’s missed it so fucking much.

 

*** 

 

An hour passes and neither of them can sleep. Lexa feels it in the way Clarke’s back expands against her chest with slowly shallowing breaths. Feels it in the way Clarke’s hands fidget with the sheets. Feels it in the way Clarke’s hips push back against hers every few minutes, as if she can’t lay still.

Lexa feels just as restless, but she can’t find it in herself to move. It feels too good to have Clarke pressed up against her, her bare legs smooth and warm against Lexa’s, her hair tickling Lexa’s cheeks and lips. She chances a gentle kiss against the top of Clarke’s spine and feels the girl in her arms shiver.

Clarke rolls over slowly in her hold, face barely visible in the now dark room, only lit by the pale moonlight. Her breath puffs hotly against Lexa’s lips as she settles on the brunette’s pillow. 

She’s trembling as her fingers reach up to trace Lexa’s lips. Lexa just stares at her. Takes it all in. Lets herself drown in the shimmering pools of Clarke’s eyes, dark and silver as they were their first night together. Feels her breath quicken in time with Clarke’s, until they’re both panting softly in the quiet of the room.

“Clarke,” She breathes, sliding her hand under the hem of Clarke’s t-shirt to run it across the warm skin of her waist, squeezing. “Clarke.”

Clarke closes the distance between them. Slips her fingers into the hair on Lexa’s neck and tugs until they’re close enough to melt into one, and then slots their mouths together slowly. Runs her tongue across Lexa’s lips and trembles when Lexa opens up to her.

Lexa feels the hot prick of tears against her eyelids as she leans harder into the press of Clarke’s mouth. Feels a pitiful whine splinter up her throat when she tastes her; red wine, salt and desperation. _Fuck_ , she’s missed her.

Clarke rolls them over, tugs the sheets off them as she straddles her. Doesn’t let up kissing her for a second. Her hands cup Lexa’s jaw tenderly, thumbs soothing circles against the dips of Lexa’s dimples, whines when Lexa pulls back to tug at the hem of Clarke’s t-shirt.

Lexa gasps when Clarke pulls the shirt off slowly, revealing porcelain skin riddled with goosebumps. The similarities to their first night are not lost on Lexa, and, much like then, her hands tremble when they find their way to Clarke’s hips. The blonde sighs when Lexa sits up to hold her in her lap, and she rocks down gently when Lexa kisses her, thorough and deep.

“Lexa,” she breathes, running her palms down Lexa’s chest and to the hem of her shirt. Tugs meaningfully and whimpers when Lexa helps her pull it off. Their mouths find each other again, and this time a low groan rumbles in Lexa’s chest when Clarke swipes her tongue into her mouth.

It’s all desperate, but slow movements as they learn to know each other again. Lexa runs her fingers over the dips in Clarke’s ribs; can’t hold back her pleased grin when Clarke giggles against the ticklish sensation. Groans when she continues up, up, until she’s reaches the swell of Clarke’s breasts. Growls in frustration and arousal when she’s met with lacy fabric instead of soft skin. 

She pulls back to fully appreciate the sight of Clarke in a delicious black bralette. Proceeds to rip it off ungracefully, much to Clarke’s delight. The blonde sucks in a gulp of air when Lexa cups her breasts softly, running her thumbs over her puckered nipples. Lexa moans deep in her throat when Clarke whimpers and arches into her mouth and tongue as she sucks her nipple in between her lips. She rolls the bud gently between her teeth, laps at it with her tongue before sucking more of the soft flesh into her mouth.

“Fuck.” Clarke whispers, fingers tangling in Lexa’s hair as she rocks her hips slowly. Lexa knows she’s wet, can feel it against her stomach. 

She rolls them over gently, a fond smile playing at her lips when Clarke pouts at the loss of her mouth. She doesn’t think Clarke has ever looked as beautiful as she does now, hair splayed across the pillow and chest heaving in the soft gleam of the moonlight.

“I love you.”

It slips from her lips as easily as a sigh, but Lexa’s not embarrassed. Not when Clarke looks at her like she’s the only thing that should exist. Like she’s Clarke’s only reason to be alive.

“Kiss me.” Clarke whispers, and Lexa falls into her without a hint of hesitation. Their mouths slot together with fervor, tongues and teeth desperate as their hips begin a push and pull, grinding slowly. Clarke pants into her mouth when Lexa circles her hips against her, slumps back into the sheets when slender fingers slide between them to dip into Clarke’s panties.

She’s dripping wet, hot and slick against Lexa’s fingers. Lexa gasps into her mouth when she rubs her clit and Clarke jerks against her hand. 

“Please.”

Lexa doesn’t waste time kissing her way down Clarke’s body, stopping only to pay delicate attention to her breasts and the dip of her bellybutton, before sliding lower to settle on her stomach between Clarke’s thighs. The thick smell of Clarke sits heavily in Lexa’s nose, a needy throb running along her length as she watches the evidence of Clarke’s need glisten on the inside of her thighs.

She tugs the lacy underwear down slowly, kissing along smooth thighs until the panties are forgotten somewhere on the floor and Clarke’s cunt is in full view. She’s petaled open so prettily for her, outer lips flushed and slick, the tight ring of muscles at her entrance fluttering and clenching with every gust of Lexa’s breath across it. Lexa licks her lip at the sight of her swollen clit.

Clarke cries out so softly when Lexa runs the flat of her tongue up through her slit. Her hips squirm against the bed, and Lexa hums lowly as the taste of Clarke’s slick spreads on her tongue. She’s not in the mood for teasing, and neither is Clarke, and so she delves in right away, sucking her clit softly into her mouth.

Clarke is a mess as soon as Lexa gets to work. She whines and moans with every swipe of her tongue, groans when Lexa suckles her, twitches and whimpers when she runs her teeth barely over the twitching bundle of nerves. Lexa watches her intently through it all, warms with the way Clarke’s hooded stare never leaves hers.

When she’s worked Clarke up until the blonde is hovering on the edge, Lexa circles two fingers teasingly around her entrance. A sluice of wetness seeps out to cover the digits, and Lexa doesn’t even have time to react before Clarke rocks down and takes her inside in one smooth motion. She bites down on Clarke’s thigh to stifle her pleased growl, and Clarke cries out sharply from the dual sensation. _Jesus fuck,_ is it sexy.

Lexa fucks into Clarke slowly, curling her fingers against her front wall with every stroke. It only takes her a minute with her fingers inside her and her tongue on her clit before Clarke is clamping down around her and gushing into her mouth. 

She licks her clean slowly, humming at the salty taste as Clarke trembles through the aftershocks. When she’s satisfied, she kisses her way back up Clarke’s body, sucking roughly on her nipples and scratching her nails gently up her ribs before settling in the crook of Clarke’s hips and kissing her girl sweetly.

“ _Lexa_.” Clarke sighs, eyes fluttering and fingers clutching tightly to her back as Lexa moves down to nip and suck at her neck. She’s painfully hard at this point, but having Clarke practically a puddle in her arms is the best thing she could ever wish for. 

When a shaky hand fits between them to cup her, Lexa’s groan surprises even her. She jerks into Clarke’s hand, and when Clarke wraps her fingers around her through her underwear and _squeezes_ , Lexa’s body jolts so hard she almost crashes their foreheads together.

“Clarke,” she gasps, hips rocking of their own accord. “Please…”

Clarke leans up to kiss her sweetly once, twice, before gently pushing her to lie on her back. Lexa’s already panting wildly, her earlier ability to ignore her own needs now completely erased as need throbs violently in her cock. She’s aching to feel Clarke on her, around her, any part of her. When Clarke tugs her underwear down her legs and straddles her thighs, she almost chokes on her own tongue.

Warm fingers wrap around her first. Lexa is literally unable to open her eyes at the sheer intensity of the sensation, and so that’s all she can register. Clarke’s fingers wrapped around her. Stroking, squeezing, tugging to tease the drops of precum gathered at her slit.

Clarke’s warm breath is next, gusting over her tip in soft pants as her fingers continue to stroke her. And then a warm, wet tongue comes into play, and Lexa doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It swirls firmly around the head, dipping into the slit and then running down to lap at the underside. Pressure builds so fast Lexa’s barely able to choke out a pitiful “ _Clarke!_ ” before she cums in heavy spurts, jerking as Clarke wraps her lips around her and sucks hard. 

Clarke’s fingers are still pumping her, firm and fast, as her other hand comes up to gently massage her balls. A low hum rumbles from Clarke’s throat when Lexa whines and pumps her hips up gently, and _jesus, if she hasn’t said it already, this girl will be the fucking death of her_.

When her orgasm finally tapers off Lexa slumps so heavily into the mattress she might as well become one with it. She’s sweaty and sticky, the few spurts of cum Clarke couldn’t catch clinging to her abs, but Clarke makes quick work of licking it off her. When the blonde climbs up to lay atop her Lexa wraps her arms around her as tight as she can, murmuring unintelligibly into her neck and grinning when Clarke giggles and pulls back to kiss her.

“Thank you.” Lexa sighs, tucking a few loose strands behind Clarke’s ears. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

Clarke laughs and smirks at her, leaning down to nip playfully at her jaw. Lexa swoons at that smile like it’s the first time all over again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever cum that fast before.” Lexa hums, reaching down to pinch Clarke’s ass teasingly. The blonde squeals and wiggles in her grasp, sucking in a sharp gasp when Lexa’s thigh slides in between her own. Her grin is instantly replaced with a slack jaw, dark silver eyes hooded and hungry as Lexa pulls on her hips and rocks up against her. 

“Fuck.” Clarke sighs, and Lexa kisses her hard enough to feel it in her toes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night turns into some desperate fucking and some sensual screwing.  
> Clarke decides to reward Lexa for her hard work, and introduces her to the loving care of her skilled hands and some scented oil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk about this chapter tbh. It was fun to write, but it feels a little lacking in comparison to the other chapters. Writer’s block has got me hard. I honestly felt more like updating my newer oneshots, but I’ve been slacking on this fic so hard lately, this is more like a consolation price for making you guys wait for so long. I might rewrite it, might not? We’ll see if things turn out for the better.
> 
> As you've probably noticed, I updated the chapter count, which means only one more chapter until this whole bundle of ---something--- is finished. It's been an absolute pleasure writing this story and reading your reactions. You've really been the best audience(?) I could ask for. Thank you so much for your kudos and comments!
> 
> Now, for the last chapter, do you want me to do an epilogue or just continue on the same timeline until I deem it natural to end the fic? Opinions are much appreciated!
> 
> And, as always, I don't have a beta and can't be bothered to do it myself, so any mistakes are me being lazy.
> 
> Hit me up on [tumblr](%E2%80%9Dwww.aigoufa.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)! Love me some new friends.

“I have a surprise for you.” Clarke announces when the dishes have been done and Lexa realizes she hasn’t helped one bit because she’s been too busy staring at her girl the whole time. “Well, not a surprise. It’s more like a... treat?”

“A treat?” Lexa murmurs, pressing a kiss to Clarke’s spine as she sidles up behind her and wraps her arms around her waist. “I thought dinner was the treat.”

Clarke hums and turns in her arms, fond gaze tracing Lexa’s features as her fingers weave into brown curls. Yet again Lexa feels overtaken with how smitten she is for this girl. She kisses Clarke, slow and deep, flushing hot when Clarke presses into her and nips on her lower lip. 

“Thank you for that, by the way. Indra pushed us especially hard today, I’m not sure I’d be able to even think about cooking dinner by myself tonight. You’re so amazing.” She brushes another kiss to Clarke’s lips, grinning when Clarke blushes prettily. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. Even though we saw each other third period. And after class.” Clarke chuckles. “But dinner was definitely your treat for me.”

“Oh yeah?” Lexa dips down to nose at her neck. “How so?”

“You look really sexy in your uniform,” Clarke tugs at the black and red fabric stretched across Lexa’s stomach, biting her lower lip as her gaze dips down to the sliver of skin revealed beneath it. “I consider myself quite lucky that you decided to skip your shower and turn up all sweaty and hot.”

Lexa groans and pushes up against her, catching her weight with her hands on the counter behind Clarke. Just like the flip of a switch, Clarke yet again turns Lexa into a needy, horny mess. Their next kiss is filthy, all tongues and teeth as their hips grind softly.

“I want you,” Lexa murmurs, fingers sliding under the hem of Clarke’s skirt to trail up her thighs. She teases a fingertip inside Clarke’s underwear, biting her cheeks when she’s met with slick warmth. “ _God_ , Clarke.”

Clarke’s moan is breathy and delicious as she rocks down against Lexa’s hand impatiently. Lexa takes the hint and slides all the way into her underwear, running her fingers along flushed folds and dipping just inside to feel the clench of muscle around her. Clarke whines and tugs on Lexa’s neck until their faces are level, hooded gaze zeroing in on Lexa’s lips. 

“Please, Lex,” Clarke pants. “Fuck me.” Lexa is utterly useless when it comes to denying her girl.

She pushes into her slowly, two fingers first, then three when Clarke begs for more. The way Clarke stretches around her is sinfully wonderful, all slow and clenching as slick seeps out around the digits. She curls them softly, scrapes her fingertips along the soft spongy patch that swells further with her touch. Sinks her teeth into Clarke’s bottom lip when the girl arches up to slot their mouths together.

“Fuck.” Clarke whines, rocking down harder when Lexa begins thrusting inside her. It’s fucking hot, the way Clarke reacts to her touch, all breathy moans and quiet desperation as Lexa fucks her slow and deep. Lexa feels herself grow thicker between her own legs, feels the throb of jealousy along her length as Clarke begins clenching around her fingers. “Don’t stop, Lex, don’t - _oh_!”

Clarke grows silent as Lexa’s thumb comes up to press against her clit, her breath audibly choked up in her throat. She quivers in Lexa’s arms for long seconds, the only sounds passing through the room being Lexa’s ragged breathing and the squelching sound of her fingers pushing deep into Clarke. Lexa keeps her thumb pressed into Clarke’s clit as the girl comes, heart racing and tongue growing thick in her mouth as Clarke pulses around her. It takes a shuddered whine and the touch of Clarke’s fingers around her wrist to stop her desperate thrusting, but she finally slows down until she’s merely resting nestled inside Clarke. It’s honestly her favorite place in the world. Besides Clarke’s boobs.

“God, that was… Damn.” Clarke says, gasping when Lexa slowly pulls out of her. Her gaze fixes intently on Lexa’s fingers as she brings them to her mouth, sucking them clean with a low hum of satisfaction.

“Good?” Lexa smirks, tilting forward to lick into Clarke’s mouth. Clarke gives an appreciative sigh as she sucks on Lexa’s tongue, pushing forward until their hips bump and the not-so-subtle swell in Lexa’s shorts brushes against Clarke’s stomach.

“So fucking good.”

Lexa grins at that, always unabashedly proud when she can make Clarke feel good. Just thinking about it sends another jolt of arousal between her legs, and a quiet groan makes its way through her lips. Clarke quirks a knowing brow at her and leans in to brush her lips against the shell of Lexa’s ear.

“I want to make you feel good, too, Lexa.”

She slides one hand down Lexa’s stomach and dips beneath the waistband of her shorts, cupping her softly through her underwear. Lexa groans and cants her hips into the touch, panting against Clarke’s neck. It’s such a heady experience - having Clarke touch her - even after all this time. Six months of sex and three weeks of being in a relationship isn’t nearly enough time to dampen Lexa’s want for this girl. She doesn’t think it’ll ever happen that she isn’t utterly into her, in every way possible.

Lexa is so dazed with arousal and the feel of Clarke wrapped around her that it takes her a second to register it when Clarke pulls away. She pouts confusedly as her eyes flutter open, struck completely by the sight of Clarke’s rosy cheeks and cheeky grin.

“But first, you’re going to take a shower. I’ll see you in the bedroom.” She winks, kissing her pout once before sauntering down the hallway and up the stairs.

***

When Lexa finally steps out of the shower and into the bedroom, the lights are dimmed and soft music spills out from the speakers in the corner. Clarke waits patiently for her on the bed, head propped against the pillows as the candle light flickers across her frame. She grins when she sees Lexa halt on the doorstep, towel wrapped snug around her body, the few droplets of water still clinging to her skin glistening in the low light. Clarke’s stomach flutters at the sight. Lexa is beautiful, _so fucking beautiful_ , it doesn’t even surprise Clarke that she’s rendered speechless any time she sees her. 

An adorable grin of excitement spreads on Lexa’s face when she sees Clarke, and it sends a pang of adoration to Clarke’s chest as she lets her girlfriend take her in. She’s in lacy underwear, a soft pink against her pale skin; Lexa’s favorite. The bralette is maybe half a size too small, her breasts nearly spilling out, and it’s obvious that Lexa is _very_ appreciative of this fact. The tent of her towel grows in mere seconds, a low groan rumbling in her chest as she steps closer to the bed, almost predatory.

“Clarke…” Lexa moans, reaching the end of the bed and crawling up to straddle Clarke’s legs.

“You like?” Clarke grins, pushing her chest up when Lexa runs her hands up her sides to cup her breasts. Lexa nods eagerly, licking her lips and not even bothering to lift her gaze to meet Clarke’s. 

“Fuck,” she whispers, catching Clarke’s nipples through the fabric and pinching them gently. Clarke sighs and bites her lip at the sensation. “So fucking beautiful.”

She blushes at the compliment, tracing a finger along Lexa’s collarbone as her girlfriend ogles her. “So are you.”

Lexa looks up at that, her smile gentle and shy. Clarke can’t resist the urge to lean up and kiss it. One chaste kiss turns into several not-so chaste kisses, turn into deep, oxygen-depriving kisses full of filthy tongue. When Lexa’s breathing turns quick Clarke’s own breathing responds in like, and when Lexa’s hips slot between Clarke’s thighs she can’t help but rock up into her. Even through the thick fabric of the towel she can feel the outline of Lexa. Heat settles deep in her hips, a slow coiling that sparks bright when Lexa grinds into her. Clarke gasps in surprise, whining when Lexa does it again and a sluice of wetness soaks her underwear.

“Want you,” Lexa murmurs between desperate kisses, hands pushing at Clarke’s bra desperately. “Want you so bad.”

“Lex…” Clarke tries to reel in the whine when Lexa dips into her underwear and presses into her clit. It feels so fucking good her eyesight prickles. “Lex, fuck.”

Lexa rubs her fast and firm, dipping down every now and then to gather more of her slick, but she keeps her movements focused on Clarke’s clit. She rolls it between her fingers, presses wide circles over it with her palm, flicks it with the tips of her fingers. Clarke wails, wholly unprepared for the onslaught of sensations. She comes fast, _so fucking fast_ , gushing and clenching around nothing as her fingers dig into Lexa’s back. Lexa moans with her, sucking roughly on her neck and rolling her hips into her hand. It’s desperate and quick, enough to throw Clarke off her game so hard she almost forgets what she had planned for Lexa in the first place, but when her eyes finally flutter open again, it’s to Lexa’s hooded gaze and flushed cheeks, and she remembers exactly why she made her plans in the first place.

In one quick movement she tips Lexa onto her back. A smirk plays at her lips when she straddles her thighs and sees the evidence of Lexa’s arousal. Lexa arches into her touch when she runs her hands over her breasts and tugs at the towel. It falls to her sides slowly, revealing tanned skin riddled with goosebumps. It’s a fucking sexy display, having her girlfriend spread out for her like this, abs clenching and chest heaving with labored breaths. 

Lexa’s nipples pucker beautifully in the chill of the air, soft brown buds tight and mouthwatering. Clarke leans over Lexa slowly, blonde tresses brushing up her quivering stomach as she laps at a nipple. Her girlfriend gasps, so soft and pretty, when Clarke tugs lightly with her teeth. She kisses the sting away, mouthing across the soft swell and breathing in the smell of coconut body wash and warm skin.

“So gorgeous,” she murmurs, sucking the other nipple into her mouth. She laves it with her tongue, drawing nonsensical patterns and flicking the tip until Lexa is panting and thriving underneath her. “My gorgeous girl.”

Lexa’s eyes are a dazed, milky green when Clarke looks up at her. She smiles at the deep flush across Lexa’s neck and chest, her stomach swooping deliciously when Lexa’s hips roll up and her length presses against Clarke’s stomach.

“Clarke…”

“I was thinking,” Clarke begins, sitting up again to straddle Lexa’s thighs, grinning when she feels them quiver beneath her. “You’ve been working so hard lately, with football and school,” she trails a finger down Lexa’s stomach, “I think you deserve to relax a little.”

Lexa watches her with droopy eyes, fingers clenching tight around the sheets and towel as Clarke inches further down her legs. Clarke lets her gaze travel down the length of her body, licking her lips as she drifts over tight abs and, finally, down to the proud length between strong thighs. _She’s so fucking gorgeous, fuck_. Lexa is swollen and dripping, flushed a deep red and twitching with need. Clarke licks her lips at the sight of the clear beads trembling at the tip.

She wraps her fingers around Lexa slowly, lightly, flushing hot at the firm heat in her palm. Lexa groans and bucks into her touch, and Clarke almost loses it, almost pulls her underwear aside and sinks down on her. But she has a plan, and she _really_ wants to make Lexa feel good. With more self-restraint than she knew she needed, she reluctantly pulls back and shuffles off the bed. Lexa throws her head up immediately, all confused and adorable as she scrambles to find Clarke where she bends down to pick up her hidden item. 

“Clarke?” she asks, brows furrowing even as her gaze lands on the bottle in Clarke’s hand.  
Clarke shushes her gently, leaning over to kiss Lexa’s frown with a fond smile.

“Lay down for me?”

Lexa does as she’s told, scooting shakily up the bed to lay against the pillows. Clarke worries her lip for a second, blushing as she clambers for her phone.

“Can I… Can I take a picture?” she asks, grinning despite herself when Lexa blushes prettily and nods. She takes ten or so, saving them in the hidden folder on her phone, before tossing it on her desk and slowly sidling back to the bed. Picking up the bottle of oil that she preheated in a bowl of water, she shuffles into the space between Lexa’s thighs and smirks.

“You ready, baby? This is going to feel really good, I promise.”

Lexa nods, blinking owlishly when Clarke flicks the bottle open and pours a healthy amount of the oil into her hand. She leans down to press a chaste kiss to Lexa’s stomach before finally bringing her hands down to Lexa’s cock.

*** 

Lexa doesn’t think she’s ever felt this desperate to be touched before. Between making Clarke come, _twice_ , and the jaw-dropping sight of her girlfriend in the most amazing set of lingerie, Lexa feels like she might come just from a gentle breeze. She’s throbbing steadily, dripping onto her stomach and unable to lay still as Clarke snaps photos of her on the bed. She never felt particularly confident being on this side of the camera, but it still turns her on beyond belief that Clarke finds her so sexy she needs to save the image to her phone. She clenches her eyes shut when a lance of heat runs up her length, her balls tightening from just the thought of what is about to transpire.

She barely registers Clarke’s words beyond “ready, baby” and “good”, but she manages to nod as she watches Clarke pour the oil onto her palm. It glistens in the low light, slips between Clarke’s fingers and drips onto Lexa’s thighs in lazy drops. The kiss Clarke presses to her stomach sends a quiver through her spine, and Lexa bites her lip to stifle her moan. And then… _Fuck_.

The moment Clarke’s slick fingers wrap around her, Lexa knows she’s a lost cause. A violent throb runs up her length, pulsing in her tip as she arches into the touch. Clarke’s moan is barely more than an exhalation, but it makes it _that_ much harder for Lexa to keep from tipping over the edge. She groans and fists the sheets harder, legs squirming against the mattress as Clarke begins spreading the oil around her.

It takes Lexa some time to get somewhat acquainted to Clarke’s touch. Her hands are warm and soft, barely brushing her, but it makes Lexa delirious with arousal. Clarke strokes her a couple of times, palm gliding smoothly as she spreads the oil from her base to the very tip, and then back down again. It’s not enough to cause proper friction, and Lexa whines despite herself, aching to be touched fully.

“Clarke-” She gasps when Clarke moves lower, cupping her balls. “Oh fuck.”

“Good?” Clarke murmurs, rolling her in her palm gently. Lexa struggles to even breathe right.

“God, Clarke, that-” Clarke’s other hand strokes her slowly, avoiding the sensitive head _just barely_. “That feels amazing.”

“Good.”

***

Clarke didn’t realize just how good of an idea this actually was. _Jesus_. Having Lexa at her mercy like this, writhing and throbbing in her hands, might be the best idea she’s ever had. This is definitely becoming a regular activity.

Lexa is an absolute mess as soon as Clarke touches her. Clarke barely has the time to spread the oil before she feels the telltale twitch in Lexa’s cock, and she knows she has to play this right to give Lexa the full experience. She keeps her touch light, softly cupping her balls and licking her lips at the sight of Lexa’s slick skin.

They haven’t talked about it specifically, but Clarke quickly concludes that Lexa won’t mind being teased a little. Although, she might object to how long “a little” actually is. If the way Lexa’s hips roll into her touch, Clarke thinks that Lexa might just object a whole lot, because she looks so desperate to come Clarke almost feels bad for her. She feels fucking desperate, too, even after two orgasms, because _damn_ Lexa looks sexy like this. Clarke has been dripping wet since the second Lexa laid down for her.

She grins when the brush of her thumb against the tip pulls a shaky moan from Lexa. A bead of precum breaks from the tip and slips over her thumb. Clarke pulls her hand back to suck it into her mouth, the salty taste of Lexa and the vanilla from the oil delicious on her tongue. Lexa whines at the loss of contact, her cock slapping gently against her stomach as she bucks her hips into the air. _Okay, so maybe teasing her is a little mean…_

Clarke takes her in her hand again, this time a little more firmly, and sets a slow rhythm. From the base to midway up her length, then down to the base again and all the way back up to the puffy head. The slick sound of her hand passing up and down Lexa’s cock is heady and _so fucking hot_ she feels lightheaded.  
She alternates between the different strokes, watching Lexa’s reactions intently. Lexa responds beautifully, arching her back and gasping with every pass of her hand. Clarke cups her balls again, rolling them gently with every few strokes, moaning when they tighten in her palm. It barely takes her a few minutes before Lexa is squirming and groaning nonsensically.

“That’s it, Lex. You’re doing so good for me.”

Lexa whines and buries her face into the pillow, knees bending and thighs clenching as Clarke pulls one hand back to pick up the bottle, her other hand still cupping her balls gently.

“Look at me.” Clarke murmurs. Lexa’s eyes flutter open to find hers, clouded and dark as she digs her teeth into her lower lip. Clarke bends down to press open-mouthed kisses to the insides of Lexa’s thighs, smirking against the heated skin when Lexa moans in her throat. She flicks the cap of the bottle open with her thumb and tilts it until the warm oil trickles over Lexa’s tip and down her flushed length. Lexa’s breathing picks up as soon as her hand is back on her, this time squeezing tighter and stroking faster.

“Clarke,” she whines, fingers flying out to grasp at her own thighs, nails digging into tan skin. “Clarke, _please_ , I can’t-”

After a minute, Clarke decides to take pity on her. She picks up the pace of her strokes, focusing on the swollen tip. A keening moan splits from Lexa’s lips, high in her throat and entirely too fucking sexy, as Clarke squeezes and tugs on her cock, fast and firm. She can practically see the orgasm wash up on Lexa, her jaw slacking and her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Her hips roll _hard_ , her cock sliding through Clarke’s hold with delicious strength, and then, finally, she comes with a shout to the ceiling.

***

Lexa doesn’t even realize she’s coming until she feels the hot splashes on her chest. She’s so blindsided by her own orgasm, so wholly consumed by the sensation of Clarke’s warm hands on her, that she even gets cum in her eye. It stings, but she can’t focus on anything, her body wracked with pleasure, her cock throbbing and pulsing over and over. She jerks and groans, digs her teeth into her own arm in an attempt to ground herself, but it’s useless. Clarke keeps stroking her, keeps pulling out more pleasure from the furthest depths of Lexa’s body, milking her and moaning along with her as Lexa wails and spills herself.

“Fuck” she hears Clarke moan, the hand around her slowing to gentle strokes. _Fuck is right_. She slowly unclenches her jaw, feeling the dull throb of a blooming bruise on her arm, and flops down into the mattress, boneless and utterly spent. Clarke chuckles somewhere beside her, hands no longer on her, but Lexa doesn’t have the strength to open her eyes to look at her. The mattress bounces with the loss of Clarke’s weight, and worry further clouds Lexa’s mind when she croaks out her girlfriend’s name and doesn’t get a response. She’s about to haul herself up and look for her when the bed dips, and something wet and warm passes over her thigh. 

“Mmm wha-” she mumbles, jolting away but then sinking into the feeling, humming low in her throat when Clarke’s scent wraps around her and warm breath skates across her cheek.

“I’m just cleaning you up, baby,” Clarke shushes her, brushing a soft kiss to her lips. “You did so good.”

Lexa can feel the beginnings of a dopey grin stretch across her lips, warmth settling in her stomach and fluttering out to her limbs. She sighs contentedly and burrows back into the sheets as Clarke sets to work on cleaning her up. The cloth is soft against her skin, soothing, even as Clarke gently scrapes it across her softening cock. She’s still sensitive, the aftermath of her orgasm dribbling from the tip, and her balls tighten when Clarke cups them in her hand and folds the cloth over them. Her spine tingles and she groans, way too spent to go for another round, but Clarke makes quick work of cleaning her up before moving to her chest.

“You sure came a lot.” 

The comment is nothing more than a tease, and so Lexa only smiles and stretches out languidly on the sticky sheets.

“Yeah, I did.” Her eyes flutter open to find Clarke hovering above her, bra long forgotten and breasts swaying gently as she stares at Lexa with fond eyes. Lexa really wants to pull her down for a kiss - or better yet: pull her nipple into her mouth - but then the sudden sting in her eye catches her attention, and she pouts petulantly despite herself. “I came in my own eye, Clarke. Do you know how much that hurts?”

A second passes where Clarke stares at her dumbfoundedly, but then her cackle splits the air, and Lexa can’t help but laugh with her. She tugs on Clarke until her girlfriend crashes unceremoniously into her arms, clean chest or not, she doesn’t fucking care.  
Lexa’s pretty sure the whole bed shakes with their laughter as they roll around in the sheets, smiling too big to even kiss properly, and kissing anyway. 

“I love you, you know that?” Lexa murmurs when their laughter has subsided. She trails a fond hand over Clarke’s cheek, tucking loose strands behind her ear and kissing her soundly on the lips.

“I know. I love you too, even when you look like you have pink eye.” Clarke grins against her lips. An overwhelming rush of excitement hits Lexa, knocking into her chest so hard she almost loses her breath. She gasps and blinks back tears as realization hits her.  
_This really feels like the start of what could be forever._


	8. Just a note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a note for you guys (because I feel awful that I haven’t updated in FOREVER)

Hey guys. Just wanted to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about you. I know I told some of you I’d be posting the next (and hopefully last) chapter sometime during the summer, and I’m really sorry that that hasn’t turned out to be true after all. Turns out I pretty much got swamped with work this summer, so I haven’t really had the chance to even sit down and think about where this fic is going. I’m currently on vacay (first days off I’ve had in over 3 months), and a bit too preoccupied to work on anything other than my tan lol, but I’m still 110% motivated to finish this story! So I was hoping maybe you’d have some requests/ideas for what you’d like to read in the upcoming chapter(s). As most of you may know, I’m quite fond of writing smutty stuff, so definitely give me suggestions on that end, but I do also love fluffy/angsty stuff, so if you’ve got something you’d like for me to write, I’m open to it. I’m thinking of rewriting the last chapter a bit because, as some of you commented, it was a bit lacking, in terms of plot development, but other than that I just want to round up this story with some good ol’ Clexa lovin’. Any ideas?  
Thanks for all the patience and incredible amount of love you guys have shown, it really is heartwarming!


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